Barrack 118
by IronRunner97
Summary: With war nearly upon them, the United Peace Enforcement Organization is quickly dishing out fresh pilots to do their dirty work. One of these pilots is Bob Lankau. Can his actions bring peace to the world under constant pressure from Neucom and General Resource? I do not own Ace Combat or any of their trademarks. Any locations and Borrowed names are owned by Project aces. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Growing Pains

**Authors Notes: Well, this is my first ever post on , so I hope its alright. I am still working on this, so its still on its way. Yes It is based off of AC3, not many other people wanted to do that. Since There really Isn't much to say...I will just let you go ahead and read. I will try and get chap 4 up ASAP (that is if you all really like this). CHAPTER 4 IS UP...duh, 3 people have already read it.**

**I am a huge fan of Ace Combat, so this was a logical first choice. If there are any problems, feel free to scrutinize me as much as you need. Enjoy...again.**

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With the flick of a switch, the console turned on. The young man huddled near the dim screen and waited for the Data-Swallow OS to boot and connected to the electrosphere, which is simply a large section of cyberspace that functions as an internet. He quickly opened his Peek-a-Boom, a program that searches the electrosphere for absolutely anything using keywords, especially vocabulary, and started studying for the final written exam, which he presumed he needed to retake because of how badly he felt he had done. However, before he could even search for the first term, a call came over the Inter-Satellite-Network (In-Sa-Net) telephone service, a video mail and videophone service that had been provided since 2032 through the Data-Swallow OS, on his terminal.

"Hey Bob, you there?" The caller was none other than his lead instructor, Francis McKinley, a veteran pilot and a good friend of the students due to his friendly demeanor.

"Yes Sir!" responded Bob in a proper military response.

"At ease Bob, it's a phone call! Anyway, the results are in and you received a perfect score on the written portion."

Bob was silent. Although he was quite smart, he had almost no faith in his own work. This perfect score meant that Bob no longer needed to take the test and could finally go flying to prove himself in his final dogfight against the instructors.

"Well, if you're just gonna sit there and stare at the screen, I guess I will log off...see ya in the skies Lankau!" and just like that the screen went black

After sorting through his mail, Bob stumbled upon a notice for the class

physical and mental exams that were the other prerequisite for the last test. Bob had completely forgotten up them until now. He sprang out of his chair hoping it wasn't too late and began running down to the Infirmary. In his rush out the door, he tripped over his forgotten footwear and slammed into the wall outside his room. Luckily, no one was around to see his awkward display of acrobatic prowess. After recovering from the fall, he returned to put on his deadly shoes and make his way down for his physical. When he arrived at the infirmary, Bob was informed that someone else was already in the physical testing area and he was to take the mental exam first.

"Welcome Bob, I think it would be easiest if I just asked you some simple questions, because there really isn't anything wrong with you." said the base's psychologist and psychiatrist.

"Okay" was the only word that Bob could muster out. He never really cared for these exams as he knew himself pretty well. Bob was a well mannered and quiet

man with little to brag about. Although he was shy, his classmates considered him a good friend to them. Even those who only knew him from afar had a positive opinion of him. His mental capability had helped him through his school days and also made him recognized by Neucom for their "Opto-Neural-Synapse-Interface" (ONSI) program. He declined because ONSI, required a dangerous surgery and Bob wanted no part of it. He was later informed that they soon found a replacement.

"Well, you passed yet again. You check out and are free to go. Just sit in the waiting room and we will call you in when the doctor is ready."

He sat on a rather comfy chair in the so-called waiting room, which was just the lounge room across the hall. It was about the time that he got adjusted to the seat, when the doctor was ready for Bob's physical exam. As he stood, Bob began to get nervous, but all of a sudden he focused on something else and his nerves were of secondary importance. He stopped for a moment and gazed. It was not whether he would pass or fail that made him act like this, or even how well he would do in the sky...but who left the office as he entered. In the short seconds she passed him, Bob thought he must be dreaming. She was simply astonishing. Bob thought to himself _Such beauty can't truly exist, maybe I should visit my optometrist_. By the time he had finished thinking she might not be real, she was gone. He was stuck daydreaming…that is, until a certain wall interrupted it.

"Are you sure you passed the mental exam, Bob?" said Doctor Pershing, still rather puzzled at the dazed actions of the young trainee walking into the office wall.

"Uh, yeah, I did...never mind, it's nothing. I'm just daydreaming is all." Bob sounded out of it, as if he had just woke up.

"Well, do you feel fit for this exam, young man?" asked Pershing.

"Yeah, I feel better now."

Doctor Pershing began the exam. When it concluded, Bob was cleared and in perfect health...bar the small bruise in the center of his forehead. Bob returned to his room to consider what he had seen before his exam. He was tired and fell asleep, sleeping deeper than he had ever had before. The reason was not entirely connected to the girl he saw, but the fact that his annoying roommate had dropped out three weeks ago. The instructors never changed the room arrangement to compensate and he had it all to himself.

Though he had to wait a week for the final dogfight with the instructors, that time flew by. As Bob looked at the clock, which read 0600, he whispered to himself _Today is the day, I can't wait to get up there!_ Bob normally woke up an hour later, so by the time got to the hangars, the only ones there were the fighters, the flight engineers and Francis.

"Well, good morning pilot. Why are you up so early!?" asked McKinley from across the massive hangar. There was no man better under pressure than Francis. His calm and lax attitude had kept his students (or as they are called in the flying world: Nuggets) sane and in order during their training many a time.

After hearing the humorous question Bob responded with: "Because I love walking around this base aimlessly until the biggest event in my life, Sir!" The two conversed for hours and, unknown to them, the remainder of the Nuggets had marched in and stood in formation.

"Hey, Nuggets! Why are you so uptight? At ease and stand easy!" Francis was still in his humorous phase and had forgotten the discipline hounding that he intended to give them.

The young pilots spread out and talked amongst themselves. One of them was curious about why Bob was talking to Francis like they were friends and equal in rank.

"That's simple son, it's because it was too damn early for all that subordination crap!" It seemed Francis was in a great mood this morning. "Alright! Nuggets, its time to mount up...but first, we need to form squadrons. Let's see...form them yourself and I'll see if they are fair."

The Nuggets all grabbed each other like kids on Halloween fighting for chocolate. In under a minute, the teams were formed. Bob was alone.

"Alright, it seems that somehow we have awkward numbers again. Okay, Bob you will need to be paired with someone...hmmm" said Francis.

Bob was puzzled. He started thinking that he would be paired with an instructor, or be joined to make a 5-ship formation. But, to his surprise, Francis' eyes darted to a seemingly unattended section of the hangar.

"Bob, lets pair you up with her" came Francis' voice. Immediately, Bob's eyes shifted to right behind him where he saw none other that beautiful woman he had seen in the medical office. "You will be a squadron of two, but I know you will overcome!"

The girl, who had seemingly materialized out of thin air, was now the center of attention and had the eyes of every one of the all-male (bar her) class. But instead of turning red and hiding her head, she wore a sweet smile on her angelic face.

"I guess that means we are squadmates, m-ma'am." Bob sounded just as

awkward as he felt. Not only had he never seen a girl this beautiful, but now he had to work with her as well.

"Alright Nuggets! To your planes! The first team up will be you guys, John!"

Francis had entered his serious phase, while Bob uttered a sigh of relief that he didn't have to go first. Hours passed, and one by one the squadrons were evaluated. The point was not to win per-se, but to listen and obey orders and execute a mission properly. Winning was a secondary objective, as Nuggets were not expected to beat a highly trained instructor. Finally the call came in, and the two partners were to take to the skies immediately. Francis had asked the instructors to remain in the air with less fuel and virtual missiles in order to make it a fairer, as the young pilots were at half strength. In reality, this "limitation" really wasn't that much of a mediator.

Before making it into his plane, Bob turned towards the mysterious girl and said "You know, I never really had much success in these things! I love flying, but it doesn't always turn out the way I planned."

In almost a whisper, her soft, sweet voice filled Bob's eardrums like warm water in a shower .

"Me neither, maybe we will do better together."

Then the two took to the skies in some basic EF-2000E's, the most simple of the Special Action Response force, or SARF, had to offer. Bob went through his normal procedures, open the hatch, laid down in the cockpit, connected to the Connection for Flight Interface (COFFIN) system, and waited for orders. He read the screen for his mission data, as he had no formal briefing on the mission. Each mission was different for the teams.

His screen read:

_Initiating Connection For Flight Interface...User Identified: Bob Lankau... Mission details are as follows: Take off and head to rally point at angles 10 bearing 229 from airport tower, await go-order from instructors._

"Seems easy enough" said Bob, his adrenaline taking over. "Hey, you ready ma'am?"

"Yes, I am...let's go." responded the unknown girl.

Both 2000E's taxied and took off. The two craft immediately turned to heading 229 and began their climb. After about two minutes, they were ready to battle and the order came in. It was not a complex mission like some of the other pilots had. Instead, it had one simple word: _Survive_.

"Survive! What the hell does that mean?" screamed Bob. Sadly, his microphone was off and he ended up rambling to himself until the training AWACS interrupted with "Engage!"

Then, from the clouds came the instructors. The instructors were armed with better MiG-33 Fulcrum SS fighters, and they were masters of them. The two young Nuggets broke formation and tried to split the enemy ranks up the middle. This worked all too well, as now both of the pilots had two MiG's on their tails. Soon, the girl was gone, lost in the clouds somewhere and Bob was alone. He did everything he could, pulling every maneuver in the book, but those MiG's just wouldn't give up. The lead MiG almost had a lock on Bob when chatter came through what he thought was the radio.

_Wait three then break right hard_. He did just that and lo-and-behold, the two MiG's lost the lock and overshot Bob. Though slower, the EF-2000E was slightly better at turning and could take a beating to boot. Bob would use this to his advantage and quickly turn the tide of battle, listening to all the "radio calls" that came through. After ten minutes of fighting, Bob had splashed one of the MiG's and damaged the other; and his wingman did quite well also, splashing both of the MiG's that were pursuing her with a lucky gun spray. The last MiG signaled _bingo fuel _and all of the planes turned to home.

"That was an amazing flight you two!" said McKinley, who wasn't fazed at all by the long day in the air. "You both have great talent; good job!"

"Well, it was thanks to your support after all. If you hadn't told me what to do, I would never have won!" replied Bob, who was still thinking that Francis had helped.

"I never said a word to you, boy! I was that MiG you almost shot down. I think the medical term for your condition is instinct! If it sounded like me...that is all just coincidence and/or you're in love with the sound of my voice! Hahahaha!"

"Very funny, Sir... maybe I was just going through an aces high...except I am not an ace!"

Then, all the attention was again shifted towards the girl. She had just left her plane and was walking up to Bob and McKinley, sensing they were having one of their unique conversations, when Francis asked her: "How do you think you did?"

"I did alright. I was really lucky but it was fun none the less!" responded the enthusiastic young pilot. Bob couldn't tell who was more ecstatic: the psycho instructor, or the mysterious girl who was trained by him.

"Well, that's all for today! See you lads at graduation tomorrow! OOPS...well the cats out of the bag, you two passed today!" Francis departed with those words, leaving the Nuggets to celebrate amongst themselves. Both of them were very happy to have passed; it was definitely a high point in Bob's life.

"By the way, you know my name already, I hope... but I never learned yours."

It was the adrenaline talking. Normally Bob would have turned tail and rand at even the thought of a social confrontation with a girl that beautiful. She replied in that same, calm voice she had before the dogfight.

"My name...it's Isis. I am from Erusea, so this is like my backyard. I know you are Bob, but where are you from?" asked the girl, wearing a smile that lit up the hangar better than the sun ever could.

"Well, my last name is Lankau, that is because my family is of Belkan decent, but I was born in Osea, November City to be exact."

After exchanging their greetings, they parted ways and returned to their respective dorms. The next day…normally a day that made a pilot into a nervous wreck in hopes that they would graduate...was already a dream come true for Bob. Since he and Isis had already learned that they graduated, there was no cause for concern. The ceremony went as planned, with a 100% passing rate for the first time in 10 years.

"I will now assign you to your primary posts. This will become your home base and maybe even your true home. Please come up and take your sheets." Francis had now finished his little pep-talk and stepped to the right of the podium to hand out the assignments. Some were surprised by their postings and others not so much.

"Hmm, North Point...wow, that's awesome."

Bob was extremely excited about his posting. North Point was a region in went Usea that was part in the mainland and part on a large island that was at one point part of the ISAF (Independent State Allied Forces), and home to the legendary ace pilot Mobius 1. Although not much was known about this pilot, his legend lived on through stories and articles.

"That's a relief, I thought I was going to be posted at Megafloat or something like that. Hey, Francis may have even recommended Geofront just as a cruel joke."

As he looked around he heard a faint _Sure Would_ from the distant McKinley, who was eavesdropping the whole time. With a chuckle, Bob turned to Isis and asked: "What about you?"

"North Point, same as you." replied Isis.

Bob noticed the look on her face. It was not the look of excitement or resentment, but rather a look of relief. Bob had no idea why this was, but he was pleased they would serve together.

The day concluded after a long period of festivities, and the next day was seen from the air, as they were transferred to North Point. What better way than in the luxurious R-505U civilian airliner built by Neucom. The UPEO's EF-2000E "Typhoons" were built by a UPEO internal engineering company and were too minor to be a rival to Neucom, or Neucom's competition...General Resource LTD, a just as powerful corporation with just as much influence as Neucom. The difference in quality was definitely apparent after flying in the Typhoon for so long. When they arrived, Bob and Isis received their new aircraft, and boy were these planes magnificent. The two were gifted with the new and state-of-the-art SU-37 Super Flankers built by the same company as the EF-2000E Typhoon and the MiG-33 Fulcrum SS.

"Wow, now THAT is a plane!" said Isis, who was surprisingly enthusiastic.

"Yup, just like Yellow 13's, only better." Bob responded with a similar enthusiasm. He was also looking around for someone to greet them, and his prayer was answered minutes later when the base commander, William Thomas, arrived to escort the two pilots to their barracks.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is William Thomas. Nice to meet you. I am in command of this base. Because you are new here, you may have questions, so just ask if you need anything" explained the base commander. Contrary to most stereotypes like the "Perrault" stereotype, which was a commander with no care for his subordinates and takes his anger out on them as much as possible, base commander Thomas was a nice man with a calm and friendly demeanor, although Bob thought that this could change in a heartbeat.

"Nice to see you too, sir! My name is Bob Lankau"

"And my name is Isis."

"Just Isis, what about your last...eh, never mind maybe I shouldn't ask." William responded to the greetings like he had done many times before. By then, they had reached the barrack they were assigned to. It had the number 118 on it, which symbolized the location of the hangar of Mobius 1 and the 118th Tactical Fighter Wing "Mobius". Bob and Isis were proud to sleep here of all places. As the day faded into night, the two went to bed. It was their turn to enter the ring; and with the way things were going, Hell could spill over any day.

Now that they had left their pilot school and entered the real world, truth began staring them in the face and all the world's problems became theirs. As pilots for the United Peace Enforcement Organization or UPEO, they were in charge of keeping the corporatocratic entities of Neucom and General Recourse Limited under control. Within UPEO was the Special Armed Reaction Force or SARF. The SARF and UPEO represented the Neo-United Nations, although nations no longer existed because government had become obsolete. All that was left were two massive monopolistic corporations. As of late, these two corporations were at each other's throats; and SARF has been on high alert ever since.

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**Since Most of you like this first chapter I will put this here. Will you guys please read the second chapter, it's starting to look a bit weird to me that you are skipping such an important part (well important to me anyway). But if this is what you wan't I can understand that. I mean really though, this first chapter (at the moment) has about 15-19 views...chapter 2 has one! ONE! Weird!**

**Ignore this previous paragraph now (well not entirely). It's starting to even out now.**


	2. Chapter 2: First Flight

Early the next day, the fresh pilots had awoken and dismounted their rather comfortable beds. They looked around and remembered that they weren't trainees anymore. Bob couldn't help but feel accomplished, even though he would now be flying to kill others. These feelings quickly disappeared when he looked at the clock. Isis and He were now almost late for their first briefing...and they weren't even in uniform.

The two young pilots quickly dressed themselves and ran to the briefing room. To their surprise they were the first ones there. After about four minutes, the remaining pilots filled the room.

"Settle down people!" said William, who had arrived with the mission planning staff and his adjutant. "Lets start the briefing!"

The pilots immediately took their seats if they hadn't already done so. Bob felt a bit alone, not knowing anyone around him and he quickly became overwhelmed. However, he was not really alone. Bob may have forgotten, but Isis was right next to him, and he could tell that she was in no better shape. Isis had known the students in her class and was able to talk easily with them, but now she was in a room of strangers and Bob was the only one she could feel safe around.

The mission planner's booming voice filled the room. "The latest reports are that Neucom has attacked General in a string of illegal actions. UPEO needs to instigate and mediate the situation. A squadron commanded by Rena Hirose has already lead an operation to put down the actions over Expo City, but we are needed to fix what is going on here in North Point." Bob could hear the whispers of astonishment about Rena and not the attack on Expo City. Rena Hirose, the ace pilot of the SARF, was well known in Usea. She was the person who replaced Bob in the ONSI project. Born with a disease known as Silverstone disease, she was never able to feel sunlight on her skin, as it would be deadly to her. Her skills in an aircraft were almost unrivaled, and her importance in the UPEO was definitely well acknowledged.

"Anyway, if we are done blabbering...our mission is to fly combat air patrol over the major cities of North Point. We are a small base and all pilots must participate. I wish you the best of luck out there" said William, interrupting the pointless chatter that was emanating from the more "veteran" pilots.

The adjutant ended the meeting and sent the pilots to their planes. Bob and Isis boarded their SU-37's and laid down. Inside the cockpit was the now ubiquitous Connection For Flight Interface or COFFIN system. The system used neural signals being sent through the hands to replace the use of a stick and throttle. Around the pilot's head was a glass HUD that allowed the pilot to know almost everything he needed, replacing the instrument panels completely. Because you could not see outside the cockpit, the use of the Electro-Neural Synapse Interface or ENSI was needed to look around. At peak concentration, ENSI (and the more advanced ONSI) allowed the pilot to see 180 degrees around his aircraft, yet he was also able to see the HUD displayed on the glass screen around his face. This system allowed the user unparalleled reaction time compared to standard systems of contemporary aircraft. Bob started his engines and left the Hangar, Isis close behind. After taxiing, the flight took to the skies and the pilots prepared for their mission.

"This is flight lead. All units are now in assigned sectors...proceeding to operation start. You two newcomers better prove yourselves out there!" The flight leader was always barking at his underlings, but it kept them under control so it was appreciated rather than hated.

"Yes, sir!" Bob and Isis responded in unison. Surprisingly, the mission went off without a hitch. No enemy contacts were detected, and the only thing accomplished was enjoying a nice relaxing flight around North Point. But, sadly, this would not last very long.

The mission was just about to end when an alert was sent to the pilots. By this time, the squadron had almost all formed up except for Bob and Isis, who were out at the farthest point. The two were about twenty nautical miles out from the formation when all hell broke loose. A massive explosion occurred in mid-air and wiped out the entire formation in one blast. It was a magnificent sight, as deadly as it was. To Bob, it reminded him of the old Stonehenge rounds that impacted the skies during the era of Mobius. Isis, however, thought it looked more like Yuktobanian burst missiles. They were both wrong, though. The source was a new weapon developed by General Resource, one that was presumed to have been cancelled years ago. It would seem that both monopoly corporations were by no means willing to sit quietly. Now, at the most crucial time in SARF history, pilots were needed and North Point only had two left. To make matters worse, Bob and Isis were some of the youngest and most inexperienced pilots in SARF.

"Hello! Anyone there? All surviving aircraft, respond!" Bob was greatly confused by this attack. He had no idea that anyone could deploy such a weapon during peacetime.

"This is Isis, don't worry I'm still here! Not reading any other aircraft though. I don't like this one bit."

Before either Isis or Bob could assess the situation, they received a disconcerting report on their HUDs. It read: _Incoming leakers entering combat patrol perimeter...any surviving aircraft you are cleared to engage..._

"Leakers? Are they Neucom or GR?" Bob was talking to ghosts, as there was no response "Oops, radio's off!"

"You hear that Bob, they say we've got incoming?" yelled Isis.

"Yeah, let's go! I am only seeing eight on the radar. Hopefully we will get some backup though!" And with that, the two Super Flankers went to full afterburners and sped toward the enemy formation, not knowing that they were the only two left to respond.

The enemy's voice came through the radio "Attention enemy craft, you interfering in a General Resource Defense Force operation. Turn back now or you will be shot down!" The UPEO pilots chose not to respond and the voice no longer came through, but another sound pierced Bob's eardrums…the augural sound of missile lock alerts. Immediately, both Flankers broke to engage the oncoming fighters. The two pilots were up against veteran pilots in powerful F/A-18I Super Hornets, but these planes were no match for the Flankers SARF had. The opposing parties crossed past each other and the battle began, with Bob instantly on the defensive. The Hornets were not as efficient of planes as the Flankers, but the pilots were able to get past the shortcomings and bring their guns to bear. However, Bob knew what to do in the air and began to use the Flankers superior stats to his advantage, pulling every maneuver there was to gain an advantage. Bob was able to swiftly take all four planes down efficiently. He thought to himself: _Good, not letting one live THIS time!_

On the other side, Isis was doing just as well. She was lucky not to find the enemy captain, as he singled out Bob as the flight lead, although in reality, neither of them were flight leads. Isis and Bob were able to avoid disaster and splashed the enemy aircraft. They were now on the way back home.

"Attention surviving aircraft: thank you for your support...it was greatly appreciated." William Thomas' voice rang through the radio. To the young pilots, it had seemed like a decade since they launched, and now they were heading home alone…realizing they were the only two pilots who had survived.

"Which one of us is going to write up the report?" asked Isis.

"I don't think we need to. Base command will probably ask all the questions they need right off the bat...a report would just be a boring restatement." Bob responded. The two pilots returned to base and landed. After exiting their aircraft, they were swarmed by the command staff. William Thomas was disturbed as he looked to the sky.

"Are you sure that they are all dead?" William said "Did any of them eject?"

"They didn't have time. The weapon caught them off guard and killed them all." Bob responded, his mood shattered by the events that had just transpired. Meanwhile, Isis was acting strange. Her face had turned pale and her expression was that of disgust and depression. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, although she tried to hide them. The thought of so many killed by a weapon that was meant to be used in war during a peaceful operation by a group of mediators had obviously gotten to her. In an effort to let her know he felt the same way, Bob gently touched her hand, hoping she would understand his empathy to her sadness.

"It's alright, Isis, we are all here for you...there is no need to cr-"

Bob was interrupted by a sudden movement in Isis' body, and before he knew it her arms were around his body and her head was in his chest. Isis' tears slowly faded into submission as she in rested Bob's arms. When she had completely calmed down, she looked up and with the kindest smile Bob had ever seen and uttered a faint "thank you".

William allowed the two to proceed at their own pace to the debriefing. Once there, they had learned that the squadron that engaged them were some of the aces of the GRDF. Bob and Isis were given great honors for defeating pilots of such status and prowess.

"It would seem as if the spirit of Mobius was there with you two" declared William's adjutant in a joking manner. The mood in the staff room became much lighter with the humor that the adjutant always brought. It was never misplaced and always appreciated. "Anyway, you two are dismissed, return to your barracks until dinner." The two pilots gave a proper salute and did as they were told. _To think all of this happened in one day...I really hope that we can settle this at the tables rather than on the battlefield _Bob thought before going to bed. _But these two corporations seemed ready to exhaust everything in order to win it all..._

The following day was spent at the hangars. Bob wanted to take a look at his plane, and Isis just felt like following. Though she wanted to stay in bed, she was awaken by the vexatious noise of a convoy of truck sending supplies to the base. Sadly for the two pilots, reinforcements were out of the question. Once at the hangars, the two aviators met a man who had been at the base longer than anyone else. His name was Ian Douglas, the lead flight engineer on station. His job was to make sure that all the aircraft were in perfect and ready for combat at a moment's notice.

"Pleasure to meet you; name's Ian, Ian Douglas." His accent made it clear his was from the country of Emmeria in the northern continent of Anea. "And you are?"

"Uhh...Bob Lankau, sir, second lieutenant." Meanwhile, Isis seemed almost to doze on her feet. "And THIS is Isis, also a second lieutenant" said Bob while nudging at the Isis trying to bring her to full attention.

"Is she feeling alright?" asked Ian.

"Yeah, she is just cranky and tired is all..." Bob wanted to continue, but was stopped by a sharp pain in his side, he knew why. Isis was awake and had nudged him back…hard with her bony elbow. The three walked over to the Su-37's. Staring at his plane, Bob was mesmerized. The design was age-old but still more efficient than most aircraft today. It was quick in a turn and quite tough. Flankers were always known for their maneuverability thanks to their unique wing design, which became the identifying facet of all Flankers to come. This, added with thrust vectoring nozzles, created one of the best fighters in the world.

"She's a hell of a plane!" said Ian, whose adept knowledge of aircraft had scored him many a promotion within both General and Neucom and gave him the respect of his new employers in UPEO. "How did she perform yesterday?"

"These Flankers are a dream to fly, that's a fact. The COFFIN is quite comfortable, too!" Bob responded. The two talked for about an hour; checking, tuning, and fixing every minuscule component, some of which that Bob didn't even know existed. Meanwhile, Isis was walking around taking in everything that was being discussed but without saying a word.

"Hey, Lankau, your wingman is quiet, isn't she?" Ian said to Bob while they were inspecting the engines.

"What? Oh, yes she is, but don't let that fool you. She's knows what She's doing up there!" Bob replied. "Anyway, Ian, how long are you planning on working on that plane?"

"Oh not long; this is just a standard check. I don't intend on going much farther.

Bidding Ian farewell, Isis and Bob headed back to the hanger, and now she was talking non-stop. She was impressed with the plane and wanted to go over every detail she had heard with Bob. By the time they arrived back at the barracks, Bob felt like they had talked for hours. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet. Bob stepped outside to catch a breather. The memories of events that had transpired they day before continued to haunt his tortured soul, and Bob just could not get the images of that day out of his head. He could only suppress the emotions with the realization that war was almost upon the world. He knew that either side would take whatever advantage they could, resorting to using that advantage without mercy. Bob became curious about reinforcements and walked to the command HQ to ask William some questions.

"Commander, Sir! Permission to speak!" Bob asked in a very uptight manner, as he felt it was time to act disciplined.

"At ease second lieutenant, and you know that you don't need to speak to me like that right? I've never been a fan of all that subordination crap anyway."

"I was just wondering, when are the reinforcements going to arrive?"

William paused for a moment, pondering on how to explain the situation without hurting Bob. Finally he spoke: "Listen Bob, I don't know how to tell you this but...there won't be any reinforcements coming to this base. UPEO is too outstretched as is, and such a small base will be of no concern to their greater needs."

Bob's enthusiasm quickly went downhill. He thought it was simply impossible that two pilots could defend an entire sector alone when it was difficult for fifteen veteran pilots, whose lives vanished in mere seconds. Without a word of remorse, he became speechless, lost in his thought. William didn't want it to come to this either, but there were no other options left, and his position gave him only the smallest capacity of power on the world stage. Before Bob was able to process this latest bad news and sink into a funk, a sensation in his right hand brought him back to reality. It was so calming to him, so soft…almost ethereal. It seemed that Isis had recently woken up from her much needed sleep and asked Ian where Bob had scurried off to. She was now right beside him, trying to keep him from falling prey to the same despair that infected her yesterday when she realized the full impact of their mission. Bob finally snapped out of the lull he was in and thanked Isis for being there.

A week would pass, and it almost seemed like the tensions had lessened. But, even with that feeling, no one could escape the fact that war is inevitable.

Bob's eyes slowly opened, agitated by the fruitless rigging of the In-Sa-Net service on the terminal in barrack 118. Trying to ignore it, Bob turned his head toward the wall and covered it with a pillow. This was all fine and dandy until another noise rang out.

"Will you please just answer it!" Isis whined. She was just as annoyed as Bob about the ringing.

"Alright, Alright!" Bob answered. He tore off his covers and walked to the terminal. "Oh, God! Why now!" Bob picked up the phone.

"This is your commander, Gilbert Park, in charge of all SARF activities here in Usea. Thanks for waking up at noon second lieutenant!"

"Sir, its four in the morning here in North Point." Bob responded.

"Oh, sorry. I have been swamped in work all week. Anyway, the squadrons of North Point are to provide escort for the R-505U passing through your airspace. It will be carrying none other than our NUN representative, Gabriel William Clarkson, from Khesed Island to Expo City where UPEO's headquarters are. Do you understand?"

"Uhh, yes sir... but will it be okay with only two aircraft?"

"I expect you to make do! Good luck!" Park closed the channel. This came as a shock…that Bob and Isis were the only two capable of protecting one of the most important men that NUN has. I sis turned over and asked: "What was that all about?"

"Looks like Clarkson is making a trip over our heads, and we're to make sure that he gets to where he needs to go." Bob replied. Isis' eyes opened to their fullest extent; she regretted asking the question now. Bob went through the mail on his account and discovered a news report that stated that, the same squadron responsible for defending Expo City, had just destroyed an illegal radar network under Neucom control. Bob felt a little at ease, knowing that Isis and he weren't the only workhorses in SARF. The last email was from the base commander, William. It gave the details of how Bob and Isis were to proceed during the escort mission, which was scheduled to occur the next day at 0930 hours over the Eusean Ocean. The aircraft was to proceed over North Point, where the escorts were to be refueled via tanker, and continue to Expo City, where they would hand off the reigns to local squadrons.

After a day of planning and nonstop worry, the time came to take to the skies and prepare for Clarkson's arrival. The two pilots rushed to their planes and mounted up; this would be their first real mission as a squadron, which the base staff jokingly call the 118th SARF squadron, North Point detachment. The two Flankers took to the skies, drop-tanks on their wings, and flew out over the Eusean Ocean. After the squadron out of Khesed left, the 118th formed on each side of the R-505U's wings. The flight was going according to plan, and the two pilots dropped their tanks over North Point to continue their trip. However, such tight fighter protection was perceived as a military action by the so-called precocious Neucom Emergency Unit, who scrambled their fighters soon after the 118th crossed over the mainland. Bob tried to communicate with the incoming fighters.

"Uh, attention Neucom fighters...this is Second Lieutenant Bob Lankau of the SARF 118th squadron. Please do not engage. We are escorting a civilian aircraft on a peaceful mission...I repeat, disengage from our formation immediately, this is a..." Bob's voice was interrupted by static. The reply soon echoed through his cockpit.

"Attention SARF fighters, your words mean nothing after your previous attacks on us. We will never yield to cowards." The voice was ghastly, almost enough to cause the two pilots to break off...but they didn't.

The Neucom fighters closed the gap in short order. Bob and Isis were up against four R-101 Delphinus' led by a single R-102 Delphinus 2. The 101's were no problem, but the 102 was more on par with the Super Flankers. Although it was slower and less maneuverable, the SU-37 was much more stable and tougher to boot.

"Delphinus' eh? This should be fun!" Isis was having too much fun at this point.

"Uh, Isis, you feeling alright?" Bob asked. However Isis did not hear him because Bob had accidentally turned his radio off again. "Oops, ok NOW it's on! Isis, you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just excited is all!" Isis responded.

"Just don't get shot down, ok?" Bob warned her. Isis agreed and the two aviators, hell-bent on protecting Clarkson, dove into the fight. Almost instantaneously, the four 101's were shot down. But, the captain in the 102 wasn't going down without a fight. The two pilots were being outmaneuvered by the sheer skill of this ace from Neucom. To add to that problem, more Neucom fighters had just appeared on the edge of their radars. The 102 pulled sharp behind Bob and fired a burst from his pulse cannon. Thankfully, it missed by mere feet. But by this point, to the disgruntlement of Bob and Isis, the remaining reinforcements were right on top of them and all four were R-102's. Bob and Isis were in a bind and could not make a proper move without compromising themselves. Just seconds before one of the 102's got a lock on Bob, something flashed on the horizon. Next came the missile alerts, and along with it was a new contact proximity alert. Four unknowns were inbound. As they closed in, the 102's began to fidget and make mistakes that allowed Bob and Isis to break free. After closer inspection, it was none other than the ace of UPEO, Rena Hirose, and her squadron who came to their rescue them. With the combined effort of both squadrons, the 102's fell in less than three minutes.

"Hey, are you that squadron from North Point?" asked the first voice.

"Yes, we are" was Isis' response.

"Ok good; looks like we are the cavalry. Don't worry, Clarkson is safe with us. By the way, the name's Jaeger, Erich Jaeger. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. My name is Isis, and my partner over there is Bob Lankau...who probably has his radio off again."

"I DO NOT!" yelled Bob.

Laughter came through the communications channel. Next was a female voice: "Hey there, names Fiona Fitzgerald, but everyone just calls me Fii, it's a pleasure."

"And I am Rena Hirose; pleasure to make your acquaintance." Her voice was extremely soft, almost disembodied.

Finally came the flight lead's voice, it was strong willed, but young. "I am the captain. My name is Nicholas Cohen, but it would be easier to call me Nemo, no? That is my callsign anyway."

"Okay, sure. Well, the rest is up to you then, good luck with Clarkson and see you soon!" Isis concluded the conversation and the two formations went their separate ways. The mission was a success and Clarkson was able to safely land in Expo City.

By the time they had returned to their base in North Point, both Bob and Isis were ready to faint from exhaustion. The mission in its entirety was over eight hours long; and that dogfight didn't help either. Bob could handle these things, as he had dealt with long flights before, albeit they were commercial flights. Isis, on the other hand, looked as if she had crawled out of a real coffin rather than the COFFIN in her plane. Her face was pale and she slouched over as if trying to reach the floor with her chin. To make matters worse, both pilots were requested in the briefing room ASAP. Neither of the two were pleased by this request, but it was an order that needed to be followed. Half way through the walk Isis began to slow her pace, until she was at a standstill. As Bob stopped to check, Isis climbed on his back and moaned at him, _move!_ Bob chuckled and continued to walk, Isis clinging to his back.

Before entering the briefing room, Bob began to feel nervous. He was afraid that another action was about to occur and he would need to go back into the air again. He hesitated to open the door, but his body compelled him otherwise. The dead weight on his back began to feel heavier and he needed to find a place to drop it. He found a nice chair and sat Isis in it. The motion woke her up in an instant, freaking her out as she desperately attempted to assess what was happening. Bob stepped back and took the chair next to hers. The briefing started as usual, but the mood in the air was much less hectic that what was normally expected. It was almost peaceful as William and his Adjutant entered the room. William stepped up and began to speak.

"Welcome back, Pilots! Thanks to you, the mission was a success and Representative Clarkson safely made it to Expo City. As for the Neucom interceptors...we are currently investigating the reason behind the attack. That being said, I called you both here for an important reason."

Bob's chest locked up, the fear of having to go into combat again in the state he and Isis were in was enough to send chills down his spine. He felt nauseous. A slide came from the dim projector, and the shades went down to make it more visible. The pictures were of aircraft used by UPEO. Bob was confused by this, but William had the answer.

"Two days from now at 0900 hours, a UPEO squadron from Kaluga will be joining us, along with another from Osea as well. This will be a joint-training operation, that is only possible thanks to your efforts in getting Clarkson to safety! The NEU advance has halted, and that mysterious GR super weapon has been inactive for some time. Almost like were at peace again. Until the training begins, you are free to do what you will...dismissed!"

Meanwhile, Isis, who had been extremely quiet during the brief, was on her feet cheering at the words that were said. Bob wondered if it was the thought of being able to sleep soundly for two days that excited her. In any case, those two days were sure to be calm and relaxing, and these two pilots needed all the rest they could get.

* * *

**If you had read this chapter in the past... I added a lot of words I missed on transition to this site. I re added them and hope this aids in the jump b/w chap 2 and 3. Sorry for the mix-up**


	3. Chapter 3: Rising Tensions

And it was just that. The two days flew by with no goings-on to report. It was almost 0730 and the training day dawned, bright and sunny. Isis was already awake and ready for the training. She loved to fly, but hated to fight. This was an opportunity for her to have fun doing what she loved. Already dressed and giddy as ever, she was basically bouncing off the walls. Bob, on the other hand, was still fast asleep; his face dug into the sole pillow on his mattress. Growing impatient, Isis decided that it was time for Bob to wake up. She quickly jumped on top of Bob and screamed: "WAKE UP!"

Bob was still confused on what was happening. He tried to roll over on his back, but he couldn't. Instead, he asked through the pillow: "What is it?"

"Don't be silly, you know what day it is!" Isis responded.

"Yes, I do. But, tell me...what time is it EXACTLY!"

"Uhh, well...0730," Isis mumbled, barely audible.

"And that's my point. Training starts at 0900"; let me sleep a little."

"No! C'mon, please wake up! It's no fun being happy alone!"

"Fine, you talked me into it!" Isis rolled off of Bob, and Bob stood up. He went over and took his clothes into the bathroom. When he stepped out two minutes later, he was fully clothed. The next hour, they talked about how the training would go, sometimes deviating into other conversations. By the time they had bothered to check the clock, it was time to go. Their planes awaited them.

The two enthusiastic pilots made their way to the hangars. When they arrived, they were still closed. Ian was standing in front if the 118th squadron's hangar with a smile on his face. He merrily approached the two aviators and explained what he was so happy about. Opening the doors to the massive hangars, Ian watched their faces as the unexpected sight hit them. The young pilots were mesmerized by the sight. Both of their SU-37s were repainted to look exactly like the planes used by the Erusan 156th Tactical Fighter Wing "Aquila", better known as the Yellow Squadron. Their story was just as famous as the ace who dueled them...Mobius 1 of the 118th. Bob took a step back and simply gazed at the way his plane looked now.

"Wow! Where did you find the time to do this Ian?" Bob walked up to the planes and inspected them up closely.

"It really ain't that much. They still are the same planes...they only look a bit different is all."

Despite this, Ian was still impressed with how aggressive the planes looked to him. They were now painted with a grey tri-tone angular camouflage with bright yellow tail and wingtips, a white nose, and a pale yellow underside that carried onto the yellow radar boom between the engines. After the awe had subsided, the pilots boarded their craft and took to the skies. It would be about an hour before the other squadrons would arrive but William and Ian agreed that it would be a good idea to stress test the Super Flankers before and during the event. After about a half hour, Isis was already bored with waiting and began to start flying ridiculous aerobatic maneuvers. This brought a smile to her once unemotional face.

"Man this sure beats just waiting around! Right Bob?" Isis asked. However, to her surprise, it wasn't Bob who responded first...it was William McKinley.

"Attention pilots! Incoming news from SARF H.Q.! It pains me to say this but...the training mission has been scrapped and the two other squadrons are on their way back home! We have called for a tanker to refuel you two for your flight. You are directed to head out to Megafloat immediately! You are to assist a local squadron and destroy Neucom military powers in the area! This is a direct threat to world peace and needs to be stopped. Expect heavy Neucom resistance. General Resource will be supporting our attack as well." The communications shut off with that Fear and confusion replaced the happy anticipation that had once occupied the minds of the two pilots. Isis stopped her fancy air show and formed up on Bob's wing. They both slowly made their way over to the EK-17B Tanker, which is a modified version of the C-17B Globemaster cargo plane, and refueled. They switched the fuel feed to their drop tanks and began the long trip to Megafloat, the world's first floating city.

On their way there, the 118th squadron was joined by a General squadron that consisted of GR's ace, Abyssal Dision and his second, Keith Bryan. Dision was flying F-15 S/MTD Eagle+, a modernized version of the venerable F-15 Eagle. Keith was in an F-16XA Sakerfalcon, the modernized version of the agile F-16 Fighting Falcon. Dision opened a comm channel to the two pilots and began to speak:

"Ah, you must be that 118th squadron I've heard about. So why is it that you look like the 156th?"

"Well, for starters, we are flying SU-37s. Secondly, GR won't give us the new F/A-22Cs to use. Besides ISAF has been dead for a long time now." Bob responded. Although he regretted having to make this flight, it was settling to know that he would be working with experienced pilots like Abyssal.

"I just have one question...how did you know who we were?" Isis was a little intrigued.

"You have appeared in many of our reports, from taking on the 235th Fighter Squadron and surviving that Neucom ambush." Keith stepped into the conversation.

Isis responded "235th, Sir?"

Of course, Bob had the answer: "I believe that the 235th were the F/A-18Is that we fought after that massive explosion…you know, it was our first mission together after training."

"Yes, that is correct. I knew those guys well...not the best pilots though. No surprise you beat them. However, I guess you have potential if it was truly your first mission…so I congratulate you!"

"Thanks...I guess." And with that, Dision cut the comm.

The two squadrons joined as one formation and continued on to Megafloat; it would be a long and uneventful flight. When they arrived, the island city was a war zone, the air filled with chaos. The "local squadron" on station was actually none other than the SARF: Nemo, Erich, and Fiona. Rena was not there because her specialized aircraft was inoperable. It was a moving sight to see them fly, lighting the spirits of the two distempered pilots of the 118th.

After passing over Megafloat, the order came in to engage. Isis and Bob broke formation and began to attack the Neucom aircraft. The aircraft were nothing special. The SU-37s were up against R-101 Delphinus and R-201 Asterozoa type aircraft. The pilots had fought the 101s before, but the 201s were different. The 201s were actually a pair of 101s stuck together using a tandem COFFIN system and were usually used for ground attack. Both types of Neucom aircraft were extremely incapable of fighting the Sukhois and were quickly overwhelmed. The fight continued. Rena's squadron continued to engage the ground targets and some of the R-201s, while the GRDF squadron commanded by Dision was just seemingly circling the airspace. After about a minute of fighting Bob had already scores eight kills and Isis had six; it was a pure furball. In the midst of the battle, though, Bob let his guard down and three R-101s made their way behind the now vulnerable Flanker. However, the unexpected happened right then, as the three pursuing aircraft pulled up and away from him with haste. Bob was relieved but a little scared. _Why would they pull back?_ he thought to himself. Now, out of sheer instinct, he broke hard and scanned the skies for additional hostiles. Nothing. For the first time in three minutes Bob couldn't find an immediate target. Just then, a radio signal came through the radio on an open channel.

"Attention all Neucom forces! You are ordered to withdraw from the area immediately! We have suffered massive losses and reports have come in that the _Phasma Phasmatis Aquila_ is here! All units retreat!" the broadcast subsided and was replaced by the ominous sound of radio static. Isis, who had also heard the transmission, pulled up on Bob's wing.

"They're Retreating? What a relief! Hey, Bob, what is the 'Phasma Phasmatis Aquila' that Neucom guy was talking about?"

"Well, uhhh…I have no idea! Wait, why are you asking me anyway?"

"Just curious is all."

"Well, whatever it is, it saved our skins today. should ask McKinley about it, he might know!" But before Isis could comply, a radio message came through a public broadcast. _Today, Representative Clarkson has negotiated a cease-fire between General Resource Limited and Neucom Incorporated. The details will be explained in a later broadcast_. The two pilots noticed a development nearby. They maneuvered their planes closer to the odd formation of friendly aircraft. Before they could ask what was going on, Dision began to speak.

"Damn NUN, always meddling in the wrong affairs! Hey, SARF's ace! I see potential in you! You should join General's Air force. I can help you change the world and you will be well paid!"

Quickly, and without warning, Fiona screamed out to Nemo "Don't do it! You are UPEO; don't join those damn General jarheads! C'mon, we are your friends!"

Nemo hesitated, trying to decide his fate. Isis, on the other hand, was tired of waiting.

"Cohen, don't! Don't join the GRDF! They don't really want you! Wouldn't you rather have peace!"

Nemo finally brought his opinion into the argument. All ears were on him when he spoke. "I choose peace! I never likes these damn corporations ruling my life, and I'm not about to start working for one! Sorry, Dision, I can't accept your offer!"

Dision remained surprisingly calm with his response: "What a shame, and here I thought you were a sensible man. Well then, I shall show no mercy in our next encounter."

The two GRDF planes broke off and turned for home. All that remained in that war torn sky were the brave UPEO pilots who survived the massive furball.

"Uh-Oh, low on fuel!" Bob stated to the group.

"Same here man! Our tanker is almost here, just use that one." Erich Jaeger replied. "By the way, you two were amazing up there!"

"Well, thank you! These planes are simply amazing! By the way, where is Rena? Was she grounded?"

"Yeah, her custom SU-37 is inoperable. And you may already know that she uses ONSI instead of our ENSI, damn things are incompatible."

"Yeah…" The conversation ended on that one word. The tanker arrived and all the pilots refueled for the return trips. Bob and Isis had a long trip, so they activated their autopilots and tried to get some rest. Because they controlled their planes subconsciously, the two pilots never got lost. By the time they arrived at the base the sun was up high in the sky and the base was alive with activity, eagerly awaiting their beloved pilots return. Looking to the skies, William watched as his triumphant pilots flew over the base in formation. He was relieved that they made a safe journey after such a major engagement. With a smile across his face, and his hand covering the sun so he could look up, he simply knew that those pilots in the 118th would always come back home.

The two Flankers touched down on the tarmac and taxied to the hangar, which was already opened for them. They maneuvered their planes into the best position they could, and allowed the push-back cars to bring the planes in. Waiting for them was Ian, who was more than excited to review the flight data of his planes and see how well they were holding up. Bob disconnected the ENSI drive and opened his cockpit. He was almost ready to kiss the ground after the chaos over Megafloat. He did his post-flight once over and walked over to Isis' Flanker. She too had just finished her once over, but what she saw scared her. A string of burns caused by a Neucom energy cannon had nearly torn her wing off and she was willing to believe that any further stress could have caused the wing to break off. She never would have made it home.

Ian walked over to the damaged flanker; stared at it for a short while; then stated: "Nothing I can't fix! Don't worry over this one, Isis. You made it back alive and THAT is what matters most. Believe it or not, those energy burns actually made it possible to survive. They melted the metal in the center, and that hardened when you reached cruising altitude. If it were bullets...you may have lost the wing. Still...Solo Wing Pixy made it home on one wing, and he lacked a COFFIN to aid in the controls. I think you could have made it to the ground safely."

Ian's words were reassuring. Larry Foulke, better known as Solo Wing Pixy, was a famous mercenary and an even more famous ace of the Belkan war; a war that scarred the face of the Osean continent in 1995. Before the war, he had lost a wing during a combat mission and flew his plane home over fifteen nautical miles to safety. Isis was rather honored to be compared to him.

The two made their way to the command room for debriefing, while Ian stayed behind to repair the exhausted planes. As they entered, they received an unexpected salute from the command staff. Bob felt a little awkward, but he really didn't know why, so he gave a serious salute back and took his seat. William stepped forward and prepared to speak. However, before he could get a word out, Ian barged in with a worried look on his face.

"Sorry I'm late!" his windedness was gone and he sounded rather calm.

"Jeez, you had me worried for a second there Ian...don't do that! Anyway, let's get down to business. First and foremost, congratulations on making it back safe! I knew you had it in ya! Second, based on the reports given after your first combat mission, we did some research on that weapon you encountered…" William paused and turned to a projector.

The projector turned on, its dim glow filling the now dark room ever so slightly. On the screen was a picture of a large installation. The blueprints were too complex for Bob and Isis to follow. Ian stood and walked up next to William. They began the presentation.

"This is the weapon; a large missile base situated near San Salvacion. It features three major sections. I will let Ian explain from here." William stepped back and gave Ian the spotlight.

"Alright. We start over here. This is the ICBM launch facility. This controls the missiles like the ones that hit your flight on your first mission. Its range is unparalleled, able to hit all over Usea and reach places in Osea, Verusea, and Anea. This section in the southern end is the self defense facility. This place features a chemical laser system that is able to hit any target in the air all around the facility, and over 10 miles around it, too. The final location is a large airport. It facilitates a large number of combat and cargo aircraft. This is complemented by the 235th Interceptor Squadron. I believe you have already encountered them. Based off this knowledge, we have made a guess of its operational order. The ICBMs are launched at the target to devastate and demoralize the enemy; then the 235th enter the area and mop up any air units. Next, ground attack fighters will move in and eliminate any basses or ground units still alive. Finally, the cargo units airdrop preliminary invasion units to take over the area." Ian took a deep breath and concluded his lengthy speech.

The two pilots were frozen with fear. Their speechless expressions were almost identical, and they were thinking the same thing: _What do we do now?_ Their daze lasted until William stepped in and began to speak again.

"Anyway...I still have one more thing to say. Over the comm we heard that nickname you were given. I already heard of this. Let me explain…the _Phasma Phasmatis Aquila _are a ghost squadron that appears in many Neucom combat reports. They were known to interfere with their operations on a regular basis and frequently destroy Neucom forces en masse. They flew SU-37s in colors that were similar to the real Aquila squadron. The squadron's real name was the 109th Night Fighter squadron. The 109th was a UPEO squadron. They were shot down by the same weapon that destroyed our other squadrons."

Bob stood and asked "Wait, so have we replaced these guys now?"

"It would seem so. Those guys were aces, so you will need to step your game up if you are to impersonate them." William responded.

"We'll do our best, Sir!"

The group reviewed the combat data that Ian had brought back with him. They were amazed at the way Bob and Isis flew. It was only their third combat mission and they already flew like aces. In all, Bob scored about eleven kills and Isis had eight. Unlike the amazing actions of the UPEO pilots, the Neucom pilots were in a bind. Their inability to counter the aggressive actions of the UPEO and GRDF alliance was truly a sight to behold. The powerful Neucom Emergency Units (NEU) were all but wiped out, with minimal collateral damage. Finally, with the truce in full effect, the pilots finally had a chance to catch a little R&R.


	4. Chapter 4: Peace in North Point

For once Bob's day didn't start at 0600. The silence in the room was blissful. As he looked out the window, he saw the beautiful sun high above the horizon. All was calm in the world thanks to the cease-fire. It was as if someone doused the fuse that lead to the largest powder keg on the planet. Bob looked around the room, he saw the clock; it read 0900. He looked over and saw that Isis was still asleep, a smile across her beautiful face. He looked up to the ceiling...it was still as boring as it was before, yet he couldn't help but stare. He decided that lazing around in bed was pointless, the war could start again at anytime. Wanting to make the best out of the peace, he got up and changed into regular street clothes for the first time in a while. He walked back into the bedroom and told Isis to wake up. There was no response. He asked again, and still nothing. He made his way over to her bed and asked again, just a little bit louder. For once there was a response, but not the one he was expecting. Before he could react, Isis' pillow landed in his face.

"I get that you're tired. But do you really need to send me messages via pillows?"

"Yes…" Isis said.

"Okay then. But, I really think you should get up. It is 0900 and you are still asleep. We don't know how long this cease-fire will last, so I say lets make the best of it!"

"Sure, just let me get changed." Isis said as she slowly rose from her mattress. She disappeared behind the door to the bathroom where they changed. Moments later, she emerged. Unlike the rather simple outfit that Bob had on, which was his jeans and an old Mobius squadron t-shirt, Isis stepped out in one of the finest spring dresses he had ever seen. He was awestruck by the sight.

"Uhh…" Bob muttered.

"What? Too flashy?" Isis responded as she inspected her apparel.

"Well, compared to me...yes! But I don't mind, you look nice in that."

"Why, thank you! So, what are we going to do today, huh?"

"Okay so I haven't thought EVERYTHING through yet."

"Then we will have to come up with something together."

"Good idea. Let's go."

For the first time in months, the door to the barrack opened for peace and not for a combat assignment. The pilots stepped out and took in the air of the bright and warm day. There was a city not far from the base, so their lack of a car was ignored. This city was none other than St. Ark, the old capital of North Point. It was a nice city, not as big or advanced as Expo City, but had a unique look and feel that echos feelings of old world blues. Old world blues are feelings of nostalgia toward the world that was not ruled by corporations, many try to cling to these feelings in hope they will live a happy life; which is sometimes effective. But Bob and Isis weren't here to ignore the world, they were here to enjoy the peace that had been made thanks to their efforts.

It was almost noon by the time they arrived in Saint Ark. By now, rush hour was over and things had calmed down. The way people walked in this city, you would never know that a war had just been waging a day ago. Both pilots were more than happy to be here, enjoying the day. However, Isis seemed even more excited. She was more giddy than normal, skipping around and pointing out all of the smaller things that she described as _Cute _or _Funny_. Bob felt exhausted trying to keep up with the energetic soul inside Isis. Even with Isis moving at such a fast pace, both pilots took their time to take in the sights and relax. There were points where the beautiful sights brought the two to a stand still. They had been walking around for hours, taking in the sights and enjoying their day together. It was just about sunset when the two reached the "peak" of their day. After a while of traversing the city, they reached the harbor. It was a moving sight. The beautiful orange sun resting atop of the clean blue waters; the ships at anchor casting shadows on one another. Isis stepped forward and stood on a small boulder near the edge of the natural sea wall looking over the harbor. The breeze was calm, and for once did not smell like jet fuel. She sat down on the boulder and turned toward Bob. She looked at peace, satisfied at the day she had. Bob stared for a moment, mesmerized by just how beautiful Isis looked. He decided it was time to break the silence.

"You know Isis, you were rather energetic today."

"Yeah, I was wasn't I." Isis responded, the smile on her face glowing. "I guess it was just because I was able to spend a nice day with you." Isis blushed as she looked away. Bob didn't know how to respond, but before he could muster out a response, Isis continued.

"Do you want to go find somewhere to eat? We skipped lunch and I'm kinda hungry."

"Uhh, sure. Now that you mention it, did we even have breakfast?" With those word both of their stomachs rumbled in unison, and they both had just become much hungrier. Bob quickly looked around until he layed his sights on a nice looking restaurant just across the street. "Let's go there!" Isis nodded in agreement and both of them ran across the street to the restaurant. When the entered, they were relieved that it wasn't a busy day; they were seated immediately. The seat they were given was a nice window seat overlooking the harbor. All was going well until they looked at the menu. All this great food was on there, but the prices were through the roof! Bob and Isis looked at each other, wondering whether or not they should stay. Neither of them had the money to pay, not even for themselves. But before they could get up, they noticed some of the employees stirring in the background. Bob sat straight up, wondering what was going on. The few employees looked at the couple awkwardly, and proceeded to the managers office. Bob thought to himself _This isn't good! _ The manager stepped out of his office, a great smile across his face. He made his way over to the dazed pilots and uttered a hardy laugh. The mood in the room became laid back. The manager pulled up a chair and sat down. The restaurant came almost to a standstill. The two pilots were plain confused by the scenario. After an abnormal moment of silence, the manager began the conversation.

"You two look like you just saw a ghost. What's got ya spooked pilots?" The manager was still laughing, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Well, uhh…" Isis tried to explain herself but couldn't.

"Anyway, you two look hungry. Am I right?"

"Yeah, we are." Bob said, sounding a little nervous. "But how are we supposed to afford this place?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. You heroes deserve something special. How about ninety percent off!"

"I like it! But isn't it supposed to be 'on the house'?" Isis responded.

"Well, I am a businessman after all. Gotta make money somehow!"

"Don't worry Isis, its on the house for you. I'll pay, I have the money now." Bob and Isis stared at each other, smiling.

"Well, aren't you a gentleman! Oh, where are my manners? My name is John Larkin, and I own this establishment. Anyway…" John stood up and turned around. "Patrons, dear friends, and those I have yet to meet, lend me your ears! Our heroes of the sky, the brave pilots of Mobius, who have defended North Point against the evils of war, have gifted us with their presence. May they be treated as honored guests and good friends!" The restaurant became the sight of celebration. On normal days, the place was normally reservation only and quite high end. But today, these lucky pilots managed to make their way inside on a slow evening. Although, during the conversation with John Larkin, a large number of patrons had entered the establishment. After the cheering subsided, Bob and Isis were finally able to sit down and eat. Ninety percent off was quite a treat. Normally, a full dinner for one would cost about 118 dollars, but now it would only cost about eleven. Since Bob had about fifty dollars with him, he was able to pay for both Isis and him.

"So, uhh…did you…enjoy your day, Isis?" Bob said, barely.

"Yes, it was real fun. And the food here is divine! Did you know about this place before? That Larkin fellow was rather friendly to you." Isis responded.

"No, I had no idea about this place, or who he was. They call us heroes, yet we haven't done anything worth praising."

"Well, If we keep getting stuff like this…I can get used to this."

"Don't take this for granted, Isis"

"Sorry." Isis regretted saying what she said, it was just the heat of the moment and she was lost in the first class food she was eating. "On another note, I am really happy I was able to spend a day together."

"Me too. It was fun." Bob had more to say, but he couldn't bring the words out. The two pilots finished their meal and paid the check. Before they departed, Bob turned around and thanked John. John returned the favor and the two "heroes" departed for home. By the time they arrived home it was almost midnight. The pilots hadn't realized how long their date had lasted. However, they really didn't care all that much about how late they had returned. They passed by the massive hangar holding their planes, hoping in their hearts that they would never need to fly them in combat again, and continued to their barrack. They went to bed almost as soon as they arrived, and slept more soundly than they ever had before. 

The next day started at 0700. Bob looked out his window, happy for peace; not so much for the time he had awakened at. He looked over to Isis, who was still fast asleep. Her arm was hanging over the bed, and she was on the verge of falling over. Bob laughed a little at the way she was positioned, and started to ponder on what to do today. He knew that he would never be able to top the day before, but he wanted to at least have fun. He shifted his vision over to the hangars, and thought for a second. At last he had his activity. But, before he could say some confirmative line, a sound infiltrated his ear drums.

Isis screamed as she fell to the ground with a thud. She had finally woken up, and the slight shift in her body caused her to dislodge from her precarious position. Bob resisted the temptation to laugh, and instead offered a wise-crack remark in its place.

"I know you're a pilot and all…but, I think you still need a plane to fly!"

"Haha, very funny" Isis said sarcastically as she stood up and gathered her pride. She yawned and walked over to the Data-Swallow terminal. She checked her mail…nothing new. She walked over to Bob's bed and laid down on top of him.

"Uhh, Isis?" Bob asked.

"What…" Isis said, but she cut herself short. Her eyes grew big, and the sudden realization of what bed she was really on rushed into her head. Her face turned bright red, and she quickly recoiled back. The two stared at each other for a moment, then Isis mustered out a faint "Sorry."

"Oh, thats alright. I really don't mind all that much."

"Wait what?"

"Nothing. Anyway, I have an idea for what we are going to do today." As Bob told Isis about what he had planned, the smile on Isis' face grew larger and brighter until she could no longer hold herself back. She leaped out and hugged Bob tight.

"Thats a great Idea. I love it!"

"Well, this is an interesting way of 'embracing new ideas'!" Bob said as he attempted to compensate for the new-found pressure on his chest. Isis let go of him and said

"Let's go now!"

"Well, we need to ask William and Ian first you know."

"Oh, yeah!" Isis got up off of Bob and got changed, followed by Bob not so long after. The two made their way towards the Hangars to find Ian. To their surprise and relief, both Ian and William were talking to each other right in front of the open Hangar. The enthusiastic pilots approached the two men and Isis stepped forward.

"Hey, uh…can we take those birds into the air?"

"Sounds good to me, and Ian just finished his basic maintenance. I will give you permission on the condition that you don't go too crazy up there, okay?"

"Sure!" Isis proceeded to skip over to her Flanker and mount it. After Bob entered his, the two COFFIN systems were activated and they taxiied over to the runway. Before they took off a message came over the Comm's.

"Hey, can you two hear me? It's Ian. I have just some advice, since it's peacetime and you may not remember a lot. Try to stay in the middle of the air. Do not go near the edges of it. The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there!"

"Yeah, thanks! By the way, you sound too much like Francis, my instructor!" Bob said back, his mood brightened by the humor of his flight engineer. The two Flankers went full afterburner and took to the open skies. Now that they were in the air, the two pilots decided to have a bit of fun. Isis was especially excited to be up in the air, and was pulling the most extreme maneuvers. By the time they had reached 10,000 feet, they had already pulled nine g's over eight time. The two pilots formed up on each other and flew towards Saint Ark. Their flyby was well greeted. As they flew by, the bulk of the city stopped and looked up, waving and cheering at the pilots above. This was a moving sight. The thought of so many people looking up to him brought a smile to Bob's face. The flyby concluded and the two turned back.

"Hey, Isis! Was today better than yesterday?"

"Hard to say! I enjoyed both days, can I leave it at that?"

"Maybe…maybe."

The two Flankers came down from the now red sky, their fuel tanks almost dry. They had again spent most of the day enjoying life that only peacetime can bring. He wished that this peace could last forever, but war was looming.

The corporations were mobilizing.

**A/T: This is the last chapter that I actually had something written for. I will do my best to get the chapters out ASAP, but I need to juggle this and my school life as well. Hope you are enjoying this by the way.**


	5. Chapter 5: When Hell Freezes Over

**Notes: Alright, here is Chapter 5. There is some Morse Code in there that will be translated at the end (unless you know Morse code already). I wish I could have made this chapter longer but I just ran out of ideas for this scene. But I feel it came out alright to enjoy nonetheless.**

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The week was reaching its end, and the relaxed pilots became almost alienated into the peaceful mindset. But today was different, and the alarms were the first sign. Bob's eyes were ripped open by the eerie noise. Both pilots jumped out of bed and into their flight suits. The pilots ran to the hangars, where their planes were already prepped and ready to go. Bob quickly inspected his aircraft, and Isis did the same. Neither had any abnormalities. They mounted up and looked for the briefing on their HUD.

It read:

_118th squadron, scramble and engage hostile fighters. Mostly Sakerfalcons…Be on the lookout for transports. All units scramble…_

The two Flankers taxied to the runway and took to the skies, now blackened by the smoke of the burning airbase. The sight was disheartening but the two pilots knew what they had to do. If they couldn't stop this ambush, UPEO would have one less base and one less experienced squadron at their disposal. The Flankers circled the runway once and turned to engage the closest squadron of F-16 SakerFalcons, the GRDF's mass-produced attacker. The two pilots broke formation and began their attack, the whole time Bob was thinking: _This is gonna take a while!_

Bob brought himself behind two Falcons and gunned them down, and quickly broke as one of their squadron members retaliated. Instantly outmaneuvering the falcon, Bob brought a missile to bear and fired. The missile impacted the target, tearing it to shreds. There was no time for celebration though, so he broke off from the flaming wreck and looked for more targets.

Meanwhile, Isis was having mutual success. She, too, had fallen for the bait of the dummy two plane flight and found two F/A-18Us tailing her. However, the time she had spent flying was not in vain. She pulled up to a higher altitude, dragging the oblivious Hornets with her. She leveled out and dumped chaff. The Hornets closed to gun range and prepared to fire. However, before they could, Isis spring her trap. She trimmed full down and pulled her nose hard up. Her plane lost a lot of speed, but in the process put the Hornets right where she wanted them. In rapid succession, Isis fired her missiles and devastated the aggressive Hornets. She rolled inverted and re-trimmed her aircraft. She went into a steep dive and pounced on another squadron of Sakerfalcons, quickly destroying her with the powerful heavy cannon of the SU-37.

While their success was apparent, the damage was all to clear. As he looked down, bob noticed the craters and burning buildings where the bombs had landed. Bob looked off in the distance and saw that burning sky...Saint Ark was under attack. After destroying two more Hornets, Bob heard something over the radio.

".- - - . -. - .. - -. -..- / .- - - . -. - .. - -. .-.-.- / .- -. -.- / ..- .-. . - / .-. . .-. ... - -. -. . .-.. / .. -. / - ... . / .- .-. . .- .-.-.- / ... .- / .. ... / ..- -. -.. . .-. / .- - - .- -.-. -.- .-.-.- / .- .- .-. -. .. -. -. / .-. . -.. .-.-.- / .- -. -.- / ..- -. .. - ... / .-. . ... .-. - -. -.." It was Morse code. Bob took a bit of time, yet was able to decipher what it was saying and contacted the tower.

"North Point tower, respond! This is Mobius 1-1, Bob Lankau. Saint Ark is under heavy attack, requesting dispatch."

"Affirmative, Mobius 1-*_static_*, cleared to *_static_*, I repeat *_static_*." The radio cut off. Bob put the words he heard together and turned towards Saint Ark, Isis in tow.

The two Flankers hit full afterburners and flew toward Saint Ark. On their way another message came through.

"Attention all UPEO and SARF forces, General Resource has attacked a Neucom airbase and the truce is broken, be on alert." The message came clear and clean, but neither of the 118th cared to hear it. Sadly, that wasn't the only interruption. From the clouds came an ominous sight. A highly organized squadron dove in on the exhausted squadron. The flight was a formation of four F-22C Raptors, the best General Resource had to offer. They flew straight down through the Flanker's formation and pulled on their six, then pulled off and flew in the opposite direction. A voice came through on the radio.

"We meet again Mobius, I hope you remember us! Today you will die!" It was that same augural voice that Bob and Isis heard on their first mission...it was the 235th squadron. They were leading the attack on Saint Ark. Both squadrons turned at each other, getting ready for the most dangerous maneuver there was, a high-speed head on attack. The two flights flew past each other at almost mach two, then broke hard to engage. The 235th struck first. With the flick of a switch, the lead Raptor locked on. Bob's threat alert siren was blaring through his head, an irritating sound leaving a haunting feeling of death looming through his appropriately named "COFFIN". In unison, the 118th broke formation; the 235th close behind. A battle between aces had begun. Isis was struck at first, missiles screaming past her whenever she let up her turns. She did everything she could, but just couldn't evade. Unlike last time, the 235th was on even terms technologically. There was almost no room for error, any mistake she made was punished by a spray of cannon fire or a missile alert. Isis just couldn't find an opening to escape through.

Bob wasn't doing too much better than Isis was. The two Raptors on his six were persistent. No matter what he tried, he just couldn't outmaneuver them. He put his skills and his plane's limits to the test. Bob was pulling every maneuver in the book, and then some. But the Raptors were still on his tail and gaining fast. Things looked bleak. While moving around, Bob heard a faint click from inside his cockpit, but he ignored it as he had no time for nuances like that. But his misfortune didn't end there. Finally, after putting so much stress on his air-frame, Bob's controls locked up. Not too long after, a missile slammed into his plane. Barely together, the plane was in a death spiral headed for the ground. This whole time Bob was screaming for help, and Isis could have helped. But his radio was off, and his voice fell silent. Realizing this, Bob switched his radio on for the last time. Over the comm he spoke his last words.

"Isis, I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I just wanted to let you know that I…" But the radio cut off there.

After hearing the heartbreaking radio signal, Isis looked around, desperately searching for her best friend. But there was nothing, her friend was down; trapped in a burning wreck waiting to die on the war-torn ground. Isis took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm. She scanned the horizon for the pilots who had shot down her friend.

"There you are!" Isis whispered to herself. At that moment, Isis broke towards the four F-22Cs; she was hell-bent on taking them down now. Her motions were sharp and her aggression persistent. The 235th was now in a bind, and it seemed like there was no way out. Turning the tables, Isis struck at every opportunity; even though she was low on ammo. But the 235th had experience on their side. Amidst the chaos, the four Raptors managed to escape, albeit suffering heavy damage in the process. Now Isis flew alone, the skies ablaze, trying her hardest to hold back the tears in her eyes. She flew over the destroyed Flanker that Bob once flew, breaking into tears at the sight of it. But she was trained and disciplined. She barely snapped out of her hysterical behavior to respond to her bases recall. She turned for home and slowly flew away. The whole time, she was scheming…she was going to get revenge if it killed her.

By the time she had landed, most of the base had been relatively cleaned up. She taxiied over to the hangar and dismounted her plane. The hangar felt emptier, larger. The gap where the second Flanker went was dark and cold, a literal void. Isis could no longer control the voices in her head, she began to break down. But, before she truly lost control, William and Ian arrived to confront her. She was able to calm down enough to speak, but William beat her to it.

"Listen. I'm sorry for what happened to Bob. But there is still hope, we can dispatch a search and rescue team and…" William said, until he was interrupted by Ian, who was equally depressed over what had just transpired over the skies of North Point.

"You can't eject from those planes, there just isn't any possible way he could have survived that. I know we're all saddened by this, but there just isn't any point in denying it any longer."

"Maybe you're right, but then...what now?" William asked.

"I don't know. But for now we must repair the damages and be prepared for a second wave. Isis, I know I may sound cold hearted for asking this, but I need you on standby. There just is no telling what those GDRF bastards have planned."

Isis gave a slight nod. The tired group made their way over to the briefing room to formulate a plan. William called the Staff H.Q. members to the room and in minutes the whole group was face down in a pile of papers and reports looking for a plan of action. After about ten minutes of planning, the group had arrived at a conclusion. The next action was to strike the General Resource super-weapon in San Salvacion. It was a bold move, but William had confidence in his young pilot.

"Well, thats it. Hate to say it but this is our only option. I will do my best to round up reinforcements."

Meanwhile, Isis had been thinking to herself what was next. By the time William had finished talking, Isis had her response.

"I'm ready! I won't let you down! Those bastards are going to pay!" There was a fire burning bright as the sun in her eyes. There was no stopping her now, not even when hell freezes over.

* * *

**A/T: Translation of Morse Code: Attention, Attention. Any UPEO personnel in the area. SA (Saint Ark) is under attack. Warning RED. Any Units respond**

**See, real short huh. Whatever eh? I will get to work on chapter six now. **


	6. Chapter 6: Phoenix Storms

**Sorry it took so long! I finally got this out. Hope you enjoy! I think you will. Not much to say, its about 3000 words of story. Have fun.**

* * *

The rain was coming down hard. The hope for quiet was ruthlessly and repeatedly interrupted by thunder strikes. The wind blew the cold water into Isis' face as she marched toward her Flanker. She inspected her plane, monotonously, and mounted up. She started her engines, no longer enjoying the sound. As Isis taxied, she heard William over the comm.

"Good luck…" That was all he said. But, that was all she needed. She lifted off the runway and began the flight to San Salvacion. It was her anger that had gotten her out of bed. For some reason, she just could no longer control herself, and let her emotions take over; a pilot's nightmare. The storm shook her craft, as if someone had grabbed her plane and was pulling it to the ground. Through her mind was a storm of a different kind. One of internal conflicts. Isis, at times, wanted to abandon the mission; the thoughts of Bob putting her back on track. This wasn't about ending the war or destroying a weapon of mass destruction. To her, it was about payback. She refueled numerous times, and landed at several air bases along the way. Each time, she was greeted with wishes of luck and victory. This, at least, calmed her nerves to the point where she could think clearly.

By the time that she arrived over San Salvacion, the battle was underway. William was able to get a hold of another base, who in turn sent some of their planes to assist Isis. The planes in question were the familiar Mig-33s she had trained against before. Before Isis began her attack, one of her allies contacted her.

"You must be that ace from North Point. Mobius, correct? Well, anyway, you already understand the mission. Want to give us a hand?"

Isis responded with a faint _yeah_ and dove to engage. The complex was massive, there were targets all around. So far, the allied craft had been unable to do sufficient damage to the facility. This is due to the fact that Fulcrums had never really been designed for ground attack, only used in tandem with other attackers. Isis' Super Flanker, on the other hand, had been fitted with Fuel Air Explosive Bombs (FAEB) to inflict massive damage to the base.

Isis' first priority was to destroy the laser railroad artillery. This would involve timing, as the systems were designed to track any moving target designated as hostile and shoot it down. If it couldn't find another target, it would shoot blindly until it did. After that would be a ten second window where the laser needed to cool down. That would be Isis' only chance to destroy the artillery.

"This is Mobius 1-2, I am starting my attack on the railroad artillery!"

"Roger Mobius! We got your back" A voice came in response. Isis began her strike, now flanked by two Super Fulcrums. The lasers stopped firing soon after the attack commenced and the clock was ticking. Isis dropped one of her FAEBs and pulled up. The bomb impacted and left a huge fireball in its wake. When the fire cleared, there was nothing left of the emplacement. The two Fulcrums broke off and continued to attack. But there were just too many emplacements for Isis to get without needing to reload. She needed a plan that would conserve her ammo. As she scanned the ground for targets, she noticed a section of the base that was extremely busy. What she had found was the targeting and control systems for the laser artillery. After realizing this, Isis turned to engage. As she struck, she noticed all the people running away. Each and every one of them were caught in the explosion of her second FAEB. Isis looked away as the bodies melted from the heat. After the horror had subsided, the lasers stopped firing. One danger was eliminated, but there was still more to be done. The squadrons began to strike home, and caused massive damage to the missile launch systems. The final strike was all that was left. Isis noticed a large hole that had been created from internal explosions, it was just large enough for her to pass through. Down the passageway was the missile storage and also the computer core. It was an almost straight shot, but she would only have one chance to do it. Isis dove down into the hole, her afterburners on full; engines screaming for mercy. She went straight ahead, low and fast, until she came to the end. She fired her remaining ordinance and pulled up toward the ceiling, hoping the explosion would rip the roof open.

But the roof didn't open. Acting on pure instinct Isis pulled her nose over, half completing a Kulbit Cobra turn; a difficult feat even with a version three COFFIN. She took off like a shot and flew towards the entrance, a wall of fire close behind. Isis escaped, barely grazing the opening, and flew to a higher altitude. The facilities were destroyed, and the mission was finally over. But something had gone wrong, her thrust was decreasing and her controls were sluggish. Though she had enough power to fly home, she could no longer maneuver like she wanted to. The allied squadrons formed up on her, and one of them contacted her.

"Mission's finally over. Thanks for the assistance. We will escort you out of the area and to the nearest UPEO base."

Isis had finally gotten a hold of herself and gave a response. "Roger, thanks yourself."

"No problem." The conversation then subsided. The formation flew onward, leaving hell behind them. The storm that had plagued the area had also died off. Everything started to look better. But not all was well. From their six o'clock came four radar blips; four small blips...stealth fighters. And not just any, they were the four planes of the 235th; and they were hell bent on taking them down.

Isis was the only one who noticed. One by one, the other planes fell to the power of the 235th. The Fulcrums turned and tried to dogfight, but they were no match for the ace Raptor pilots. In minutes, only Isis and the 235th remained. The flight lead contacted her briefly.

"Now you will die, demon. Far too long have we let you poison the sky with your flying."

Isis wanted to turn and fight, but she couldn't. Her plane was far too damaged and over stressed. Instead, she began to count the seconds. The lock-on started at four, it was solid at eight. The range was closed at fifteen, the weapons bay opened at twenty. The enemy ace was prolonging the inevitable. Thirty...missile launch. It streaked through the sky straight for Isis' Flanker. But, before it could hit her, something destroyed it. Isis looked behind her as a beam of light fell from the sky. It hit the missile and obliterated it. It proceeded to move toward the enemy fighters, knocking each of them out of the skies. However, the new General Resource technology was put to the test. All four COFFIN pods deployed parachutes and fell to earth, their respective planes burning separate from them. Finally, the source of the beam came into sight. It had a sharp nose, very angular in design; the wings were swept forward. It had a black body, and red lights around the "cockpit". It was an old ADF-01 Falken, in perfect condition. It flew past the wounded Flanker and turned around. It pulled up on Isis' wing and matched speed. The whole affair seemed like an eternity, yet it lasted but three minutes. Finally, after everything had calmed down, a call came through the comm.

"Yo, buddy! Still alive?" Isis broke into tears. The voice was of her best friend and companion. Bob was flying the Falken. It was touching, the sight of the two Aces united once more. Bob remained silent while Isis calmed down. Isis started asking a hail storm of questions.

"Hey, hey. Don't worry, I will answer everything when we get back home." Bob finally said, after hearing about twenty questions.

With Bob's return, the flight home went extremely quickly. The two made it back home, and returned to their hangar. Isis dismounted her craft faster than she ever had before. As she ran toward the strange looking fighter, she heard an unusual sound. Isis turned around and saw her Flanker simply give in; the landing gear collapsed and the plane fell to the ground. She heard Ian scream from afar.

"SHIT! THATS GONNA TAKE FOREVER TO FIX!" Isis laughed a little and continued to the Falken. She looked up and saw the cockpit open, and Bob rose from the inside. He took off his COFFIN controls and climbed off. It wasn't long after he touched the ground that Isis wrapped herself around him. Bob quickly embraced the hug and let Isis rest in his arms.

"I'm so happy that you're back!" Isis said with glee in her voice.

"Me too! It's great to see you again, Isis." Bob said, relieved to be home at last.

William and Ian, who had waited a bit to let the couple catch up with each other, walked over to the two. Meanwhile, the remaining base crew had arrived at the hangar to see Bob. Ian, who was as curious as everyone else, finally asked his question.

"Welcome home man! Wanna tell us how you ended up alive...in that beautiful plane!?"

"I would be delighted. Well..."

**One week ago. 1532 hours. One hour after being shot down**.

The COFFIN went black, and Bob was thrown back into reality. He looked around and inspected the damage. Nothing was broken, and he only had a minor case of whiplash. Somehow, while his plane was completely destroyed, the COFFIN was untouched. As it turns out there was a system built into the UPEO COFFIN systems that, when under extreme conditions, the COFFIN hardens up and becomes nearly indestructible at the cost of total power inside the craft. It would seem that those tiny UPEO suppliers had a way of making a living just as much as Neucom or General. Bob forced open the cockpit and stepped out, holding his head to ease the pain of his whiplash. He stumbled away from his plane and looked for shelter. Not to far from his crash site was a small village, barely scared from the battle that had raged not long before.

Bob walked around, looking around at the quaint town for all it was worth; which for him, at this point in time, was quite a lot. After about a minute of limping around, he was greeted by a man who looked to be in his mid forties.

"Hello there pilot. You feeling okay?" Asked the man.

"Uh...yeah." Bob replied, straining out his words through his throbbing head. In truth, Bob felt he had never felt any worse in his life.

"You don't sound okay to me. C'mon, lets get you inside." The man directed Bob towards a small house near the center of town. As they walked inside, Bob decided it was time to introduce himself.

"Hey, thanks for helping me. My name is Bob Lankau, nice to meet you."

"No problem, man. I'm Arnold Marcus, and this my home. I have to say, you had one hell of a dogfight up there. Man, he just would not stop commentating on it."

"He?"

"Oh, yes. Let me introduce you." The two walked into the main room. Bob was fascinated at all the little niknaks and interesting fighter pilot memorabilia on the walls and shelves. It was a nice home, and Bob was actually tempted to move out of the base and live there instead. But he soon remembered his duties and kept walking. Over near a large window, an old man was sitting in a reclining chair, looking out at the skyline. It took Bob a moment, but he knew he had seen that face before. Arnold whispered into the old man's ear. In turn, the old man stood up and looked at Bob with a smile.

"Well, what do we have here? Nice to meet you kid, hell of a fight that was. Name's Jack Bartlett." Bob's suspicions were correct, he had seen that face before. It was on all of his basic air tactics textbooks. "You seem confident up there, but you made far too many mistakes. If I wasn't 72 years old, I'd go up there and shoot you down myself."

Bob took a step back. This grizzled old fighter ace he was staring at had made a good point. Bob felt a little down on himself, and started to hang his head in shame. However, a hardy laugh brought Bob back.

"Why are you laughing!?" Bob asked. He was even more confused than a minute ago, and starting to feel a little embarrassed.

"The look on your face…it's priceless. HAHAHA!" Jack continued to laugh. Bob began to feel a little more comfortable in Jacks house, so he started to ask questions.

"Hey, uhh...Mr. Bartlett. You were born in Osea, right? Why did you move out here?"

"Please, call me Jack. And to the questions, yes I lived in Osea. I moved here after traveling around for a while. I am the town mayor now so it all just seemed to work out. Besides, its been rather peaceful around here up till now. But you and that other pilot seemed to handle it quite well."

"Thank you, Jack." Bob responded. But, after Jack brought Isis up, Bob couldn't stop thinking about her. Thankfully, Jack realized that and told Arnold to take Bob around the town.

"Sounds like a plan." Arnold responded. So with that, Bob shook Jack Bartlett's hand and stepped out into the town square. He looked around, gazing at the small peaceful community. It was like nothing he had ever seen. Being born in November City, Bob never was able to enjoy a place such as this. As the two men walked around, Bob noticed all of the towns folk. They had returned to their daily lives, unaffected by the battle that had transpired over an hour ago. It all seemed so peaceful, almost surreal. Surely this was that "Old World Blues" that Francis had once told Bob about. As they came around a corner, Bob noticed a small group of people looking at something. They were looking at the wing of Bob's fighter, which had fallen off during his death spin. The crowd had gathered because of the two people looking for survivors. Luckily, they stepped out with smiles. Nobody had lived in that house for about a week. As Bob walked past the group, he was greeted with _thank you_'s and _you were great up there_'s. Bob was actually a bit happy now. He looked over to Arnold, who was talking on the phone. When he was done, Bob approached him.

"What was that about?" He asked

"Do you need a place to stay, Bob? I mean...until you feel a little better and whatnot." Arnold asked him. Bob was reluctant to respond. He didn't want to be a burden, but Arnold seemed to insist on asking him, so Bob accepted his offer.

"Good. You will be living in the house across from Bartlett's. It was mine, but ever since Bartlett arrived here, I had worked for him. And with his recent weakening, I have been living with him. So go on ahead and stay there, okay."

"Thank you, I will." The two returned to the town square, and Bob entered his new home. He gazed around the place, enjoying the attention to detail and the old time feel of the house. He lacked a Data-Swallow terminal, but there was a nice television in its place. He sat down on the couch in the living room and turned it on and started to flip through the numerous channels. All, or most, owned by either General Resource or Neucom. Before he knew it, dusk had arrived. Bob took his time and went to bed. It was soft and much more comfortable than the bed at his airbase, but it was still missing something. _But what?_ Bob asked himself. Instead of worrying, he simply closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

The next morning came, and Bob was able to wake on his own; and it was the calmest he had ever woken up as well. Bob got out of his bed and opened a dresser to get changed. As he opened it, he realized that he was already dressed in his flightsuit. He stepped out of his house and looked around. The day was still young, and Bob was feeling much better. Bob decided that he needed to keep active, so he started to walk around town again. He was greeted with kindness and appreciation from the townspeople, and he would return the favor. Bob was always wondering about going home, but he knew that the base was almost a hundred miles from the town he was in, and he really didn't feel like walking or asking for someone to drive him at this point. He rounded a corner and stopped cold. Bob was awestruck at what was before him. The building was massive, and there was a large cleared out space behind it. Bob was curious, and started to approach the building. It was oddly shaped; almost a big box, but with rounded edges. The roof was flat and it had a large door on the front. However, before he could open it a hand touched his shoulder. Chills ran down Bob's spine. Had he just ventured somewhere he shouldn't have? He slowly turned around to see Jack Bartlett standing right behind him.

"Uhhm hey, Jack...how, uhh…are you?" Bob asked, still freaked out by what had happened.

"I am quite fine. It seems you want to know what's in this building, no? Well, follow me." Jack lead Bob over to a panel near the large door. He entered a code into the console and the door started to open. Bob peeked inside, and what he saw amazed him. The nose was pointed and black; it was a fearsome sight. Bob had never seen anything like it before.

"Wow, Jack! What is that thing?" Bob asked, his jaw almost touching the ground.

"That is the ADF-01 Falken, built by Gründer Industries; now better known as General Resource."

Bob began to circle the plane, inspecting every inch of it. It was amazing. The whole thing was in perfect condition, even the paint. Bob looked up at the tail. On it was the emblem of the Razgriz Air Command Squadron, the heroes who one the circum-pacific war in 2010. Under that emblem was the label ISAF, for the Independent State Allied forces. On the wings, were the ISAF roundels. Under the cockpit was the Mobius emblem. It was a mixture of designs from the two most famous squadrons in Strangereal. Bob saw Jack admiring his work.

"Hey, Jack. How did you find this?" He asked.

"Find? No, kid. This one's mine!" Jack replied as he gave a warm grin.

"What!?"

"Yup! After the war in 2010, the hangars that Blaze destroyed were cleared out, and we were able to build this. Then, later, an airshow was held over November City to showcase this; along with the ADFX-01 Morgan and an X-02 Wyvern. I was asked to fly this plane. More recently, GR was trying to confiscate this from a museum in Okchabrsk, Yuktobania. Thanks to some help from Natasya Obertas, my 'girlfriend' at the time, I was able to steal it and get it here. The townsfolk and I have kept it hidden ever since."

"Wow, that's awesome!"

"Yeah, she still needs a little work, but we can get it done...I know it!" The two got to work on the plane, and over the course of the week they were able to finish and tune every part on the plane. During that time, Jack was teaching Bob all about the plane and how it worked. Bob wanted to know as much as he could so he could fly at peak efficiency.

By the end of the week, it was ready to fly. And just in the nick of time, too. The rain was coming down hard. The hope for a clearing was ruthlessly and repeatedly interrupted by thunder strikes. But they would have to Ignore that. Bob looked up and saw a lone SU-37 fly past. He knew it was time to hurry and get back in the air. He turned about and waved goodbye to Jack and Arnold. Jack screamed out _GOOD LUCK!_ and Bob mounted the Falken. Bob taxied out onto the field and took off, barely missing the tops of the trees at the end. The plane was more than meets the eye now. Bob had salvaged many parts from his old COFFIN and was able to integrate them into the new system. The new system had the ability to switch from version one to version three at will. It was quite the technological feat. Bob checked the laser to make sure it was working then headed headed out into the storm. He was ready to fight again.

**Present Day. About 1800. North Point Airbase. **

"And thats it, really." Bob finished his lengthy story. "By the way…ISIS GET OFF OF ME!" Isis had been laying on Bob for about twenty minutes now. She laughed a little and rolled off of him.

"Quite the story Bob, and quite the souvenir, too!" William said.

"Yeah it is, isn't it. Glad to be back."

"Glad to have you." William concluded. The crowd dissipated and returned to their Barracks, posts, or the Mess; leaving just Isis and Bob alone.

"By the way Bob…" Isis asked, a sly look on her face "What was it that you were trying to say before you crashed. 'I just wanted to let you know that I~~~...' what?"

"Uhh~~~, nothing.

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**Hmm, Long chapter. Not my longest, but still.**

**How am I doing so far. I would love to hear what you think up to this point. **

**For example: I am planning on moving on to a more Neucom based story arc, should I or should I stay with GR for the next few chapters. Your choice if you want. Thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7: Любовь, Сокол и Беркут

**Well, there you have it! Chapter 7 at last. This one took forever to put up, I hope it is worth the wait (I still think it is rather cheesy) but you are the judge not me. So yeah, enjoy. BTW, the translation for the chapter title is somewhere in this chapter (near the end).**

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With the base no longer on alert, the now battlehardened and as William put it "life tested" aces could rest a little easier. Though the world was plunged into war, the major General Resource threat in North Point was eliminated. The other good news was that Neucom had made no territorial gains into North Point. To the people of Saint Ark and all the surrounding towns and cities could sleep easy thanks to the efforts of the brave pilots of the SARF. It was morning, the rain was gone and the air was fresh. A beautiful sunrise illuminated the interior of barrack 118. The light bounced around and landed softly in Bob's eyes, the warmth of the sun's rays calmly opened his eyes. He rolled on his side and looked over to Isis, who was still fast asleep. He couldn't help but gaze at her magnificent figure, which was amplified by the ubiquitous sunlight. _Her stunning curvature, that beautiful smile, her long flowing hair, she really is perfect; a true angel_ he thought to himself. Bob decided that laying in bed all day was inefficient and boring. So he got out of bed and put on his flightsuit, which he had become awfully accustomed to over the past week. However, before he could get outside, he heard a quiet noise emanating from behind him.

"Where are you going, Bob?" Isis asked, her head popping out of the blanket she had wrapped around herself.

"I was going to work on the Falken. You know, learn how it works and stuff."

Isis' face grew brighter, as she became more enthusiastic. "C-Can I come?" She blushed a little.

"Of course, It's never fun alone!" Bob chuckled. Isis got out of bed and started towards the door. She threw the blanket off and it landed on her bed. She almost got over to Bob when he said.

"In that? Are you sure?" Isis looked at herself, realizing that she was still wearing her sleepwear. She ran back towards the center of the room, she grabbed her flight suit and ran around the corner to change.

"You would like that wouldn't you." Isis said as she poked her head around the corner, smiling at Bob. Bob returned her comment with a quick laugh. After she had finished dressing, both aces made their way to the exotic looking fighter. Bob moved the stairwell over toward the open cockpit and climbed inside. Meanwhile, Isis was eyeing the plane. Looking over every detail, she was astonished at the complex intricacy of this thirty year old plane. As she approached the engines she noticed a strange emblem. It was a red square with two white lines jutting in from the top right corner, one shorter than the other.

"Bob what does this red emblem mean?" She asked.

"You mean the one by the engines, that is the emblem of Gründer Industries. They are known today as General Resource. This plane was made before government was obsolete." Bob replied from the cockpit, still trying to figure out how to close it.

"Wow, this plane is ancient!" Isis screamed. She was amazed at the sight of such a cool old plane. Isis heard a noise and saw Bob disappear into the enclosed cockpit. Sequentially, numerous lights on the sides of the cockpit lit up. These lights were actually cameras used to see outside. This was how the version one COFFIN functioned. Bob still had, however, a version three system installed by Jack Bartlett.

Inside the cockpit, Bob was amazed at all the unique systems. Besides the screens acting as windows, there were also interesting holographic touchscreen systems as well. These included holographic throttle controls, and even a holographic flight stick. These functioned by dragging your hand across the screen. If this system failed, there was a physical stick hidden underneath. Below the throttle was a section of touchscreen buttons that were strange. Bob didn't know what to make of them. After a quick investigation he learned that their function was two-fold. On one hand was the cruise settings including an auto-pilot and a stealth setting designed to quiet the engines, at the loss of afterburner; and the ability to throttle past fifty percent altogether. The other settings were combat modes. These included countermeasures like flares and chaff, and a few other buttons. Those buttons were actually used to automatically pull a counter maneuver like a Cobra or a Hammerhead. There were, however, no buttons for offensive maneuvers. Bob reopened the cockpit and climbed out. As he touched the ground, he saw Isis ran over to him; jumping around like a kid on a trampoline.

"So, so! How was it in there!?"

"Pretty cool!"

"Aw, C'mon! That's all you've got? Can I see inside."

"Sure." Bob and Isis climbed back up. Bob directed Isis inside, and she climbed in. But instead of sitting in the sit, she climbed over to the other side.

"What are you waiting for, get in with me!" Isis was intent on having Bob sit with him.

"Okay, then." Bob climbed in and Isis sat on his lap. The seat lowered into the plane. It was surprisingly roomy comfortably accommodating both pilots. While Bob was giving a quick tour, Isis was scoping out the ignition switch. She was able to find it and started the plane. The question running through Bob's head was who took the time to prepare the plane for launch.

"Hey, it started!" Isis was really excited about what she had just accomplished.

"Well, might as well go flying." Bob said.

"You don't sound all that excited, Bob."

"I am, I just need to focus." Bob taxied to the runway. "Tower, this is Falken 1. Requesting permission to takeoff."

"Roger Falken 1, cleared for takeoff."

"Cleared...Falken 1" Bob hit full afterburner and the plane took off. It took much longer than usual. This was due to the ADF-01's 26 ton weight. But in the air this plane was something else. After some extensive upgrades to its engines and flight systems, including a modern SCRAMJET engine, this plane was faster than a MiG-31 and quicker than an SU-37 (though it was more maneuverable before the upgrades anyway). Bob climbed into the endless sky, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The whole time, Isis was looking around at the sky. She was surprisingly amazed at the sight.

"You know, you never get to see it with your own eyes...the sky I mean." Said Isis, the innocence and astonishment dominating her facial expressions.

"I guess not. I kinda like it, too. It is way better than sitting in those dark, tiny v.3's"

"Yeah." Isis said in agreement. Bob continued to fly, and Isis continued to study how the plane works. Time and Time again, their eyes would meet. Each time they would smile; Bob cracking a joke or Isis pointing some nuance out. They flew together for hours, refueling more than once. Whenever William asked why they were still flying, Bob would respond

"Hey, it's just a stress test!"

William would laugh, and the "stress test" would continue. After the third refueling, Bob was planning on turning back. He looked around and gazed at the sky once more.

"What a beautiful sunset." Bob whispered to himself. He looked back down towards Isis, who was now sleeping in his lap. Bob smiled. He couldn't explain it, but he felt strange. He stopped to check his fuel gauge. _Bingo Fuel, gotta turn back_ he thought.

"Hey, Isis. Wake up." Bob said, giving a slight nudge to Isis.

"Hmm." Isis murmured, rubbing her eyes.

"Welcome back."

"Hehe." Isis looked behind Bob, and she noticed the sunset and the beautiful red backdrop. She looked back at Bob, a newfound emotion floating in her head.

"Hey, Bob?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Isis hesitated, she didn't really know if it was time. So she inserted a different question to buy her time.

"What is your favorite part of this plane?" She asked.

"Well, my favorite part. Hmm, that would probably be-" But he was interrupted. It would seem Isis had made up her mind. She reached out and embraced Bob in a sweet hearted hug, followed by a kiss. Bob's eyes jutted open. The feeling of Isis' warm, soft lips meeting his was amazing like nothing he had ever felt. He relaxed, shut his eyes and decided to kiss back. It was a long and heartfelt kiss. When they finished, they remained hugging each other; Bob had activated the autopilot and the fuel saving systems. Isis looked up into Bob's eyes, her soft smile magnifying her transcendent beauty.

"Bob. I...I, love you!" She said emotionally.

Bob was at a loss for words. He now knew the feeling he has. It was love. He didn't know, however, how to respond. He gathered some words and tried his luck.

"I love you, too. Isis." It came out better than he thought it would. Isis hugged him tighter and her smile grew larger. She let out a sweet and short _Yay!_. Bob was extremely happy now...both of them were. Bob disabled the auto-pilot and turned for home. It was about time the two lovers went to sleep. The Falken touched down on the runway, it was a very soft landing. The night had beaten the two lovers home. Bob returned the plane to its hangar, right next to Isis' heavily damages Flanker, and shut off the engines.

The cockpit rose from inside the plane, and with it the two pilots who were in each other's arms. Bob climbed out first. He felt heavier, but he didn't need to wonder why. Isis had decided it would be easier to return to the barrack clinging to Bob's shoulders.

"Uhh, Isis?" Bob said.

"Yeah?" Isis whispered, she was growing extremely tired. Bob thought for a minute then responded.

"Nevermind. Just don't fall asleep back there, okay?"

"Go~~t I~~t!" Isis said, dragging out her words for emphasis. Bob made his way to the barrack and let Isis off his back. The two prepared for bed, laid down and tried to sleep.

"Hey, Bob. What are we gonna do tomorrow?" Isis asked.

"Sleep 'till something wakes us up." Bob replied.

The two rolled over, and went to sleep.

The next morning seemed familiar to Bob, there was another soul occupying the bed with him. He looked toward the wall and noticed Isis sleeping in the small space between his and the wall. Isis slowly opened her eyes and yawned. Their eyes met and they smiled.

"Hey. What time is it?" Isis asked.

"Uhh, hold on." Bob got out of bed and walked over to the clock on the wall. Before he was able to read the time, a message came through on the Data-Swallow. Bob ran over to the console and read the message.

"Isis! Get ready, we need to get to the hangar!" Bob got dressed quickly, followed by Isis. Bob grabbed Isis' hand and ran out the door. Isis reached out her hand as if to grab something to stay inside.

"But...the time!" Isis said, jokingly.

The two made their way to the hangar. The doors were surprisingly closed. Bob looked around and noticed William and Ian conversing with a few of the base staff. Bob and Isis approached. The group looked at their aces, saluted, and the base staff departed. Ian looked extremely ecstatic. Bob stepped forward.

"What's got you all excited, Ian?" Bob asked.

"Oh, you have no idea!" said Ian.

"Well, we would like to!" Isis butted in.

"Then let's open it up!" William added.

The doors slid open. The light flowed in, allowing the contents to be seen. On the right was the ADF-01, nothing new. However, on the left was something amazing. It had the familiar Sukhoi nose, canards, forward swept wings, a black paint-job; an interesting design of a lost era.

"That looks amazing, but what is it?" Bob asked.

"SU-43 Berkut, air dominance and superiority fighter. Pinnacle of UPEO engineering. It is faster, quicker, and sleeker than anything GR or Neucom have deployed. It even tops the SU-37, It is one hell of a plane! And here's the kicker...this is the first one in existance" Ian was full of enthusiasm. His love of planes and naturally happy demeanor was working in tandem, he was definitely in love in his own way.

"Wow! How did you get this?" Bob asked, impressed at the inspiring plane in front of him.

"Well, that is a secret. But.." William said. He looked towards Isis. "I hope you enjoy!"

"Wait! Me?" Isis screamed with astonishment.

"Yes, you! Bob just got a new plane and your old one...let's just say it won't be flying for a little while."

"Would explain why it's not here." Bob added.

"Hey, Ian. Is this thing ready to fly yet?" William asked.

"Yup, I tuned it last night!" Ian responded, proud of his work.

"Well then, what are you two still doing on the ground."

The two pilots smiled, their excitement growing. Isis quickly ran to her plane. She climbed on and opened the cockpit. She climbed in and laid down inside. She liked how comfortable it was in comparison to the SU-37. She linked with the COFFIN. She was ready to go flying. The engines roared to life, the sound of four engines from two aircraft was deafening. The two taxied towards the runway.

"This is Mobius 1, requesting takeoff runway 12." Bob asked.

"This is the tower. Roger Mobius, cleared for takeoff. Weather conditions are nominal, winds out of the north at three knots with unlimited visibility. No bogeys over North Point. Have fun!" was the response

"Roger, thank you tower." The two planes turned on to the taxiway and took to the skies. The two pilots formed up on each other and flew toward Saint Ark. They kept climbing, trying to reach higher than the others. Flying almost vertical, the two planes fought for altitude. At about 70000 feet, the Sukhoi gave in and started to stall. The Falken was modified by Bartlett for SCRAMJET flight at over 120000 feet.

"Hey, wait up!" Isis screamed over the comm. Bob laughed. Bob pulled nose down and rejoined Isis at about 60000 feet. They started pulling fancy maneuvers and having a good time. Dancing through the skies, the quickness of the new Berkut was awesome. Both forward swept wing aircraft were able to outturn any aircraft they encounter. For hours, the two tested their planes limits. They finally remembered that their planes needed to land soon when Isis' fuel alert went off.

"Aww, and I was having fun, too!" Isis moaned.

"It's alright, we will have more time later." Bob said as he broke off and started to descend. The two brought their craft down softly and returned to their hangar. It was almost dusk by the time they left. As the doors closed Bob heard Isis whisper.

"I really did mean it you know."

"Uhh, what did you say?" Bob asked. Shocked that she was heard, Isis reacted by quickly spurting out.

"Nothing!"

"Now you're starting to sound like me! Hahaha." They both smiled and laughed as they returned to barrack 118, knowing all too well that there still was a war to be fought. But, now they were ready. Now they were on even terms; their love, Falken and the Berkut strengthening them to no ends.

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**THESE ARE WORDS THAT YOU MAY OR MAY NOT BE READING AT THE MOMENT YOU ARE READING THEM!**


	8. Chapter 8: The Two-Sided Ambush

**I know, it took a long time. I hope that those of you who have been reading from the beginning aren't discouraged by the delay. I put my heart and soul into this...oh never mind, just read it!**

It was midday, almost a week after the SU-43 had arrived at the base. The two pilots were sitting in some folding chairs, along with them was William and Ian. Most of the base staff was either resting or on break. It was quite, the only noises were coming from the faint pitter-patter of the rain and the occasional conversation from the active base staff. It was calm, even when the war was raging around them. Ian was fast asleep, tired from hounding over the base flight engineers. William was lost in thought wondering what was going to happen next. Bob was staring out to the grey and quiet base. Every now and then he would look towards the Data-Swallow terminal in the hangar, waiting for a call to action. Isis, who really couldn't care less about anything at that point, was toying with her hands and giggling every now and then. Bob looked at her wondering what was going through her head. Then came the loud and irritating ringing of the Data-Swallow. The noise tore Ian's eyes opened as he jumped up out of his chair. Bob stood up and walked over to the terminal. On the screen was the face of Gilbert Park, the commander.

"Ah, good afternoon Bob! Glad to see you're still kicking. Anyway, to the point...You are to fly and intercept a large formation of transport planes that are relocating numerous divisions of NEU forces to the front lines. Lucky for you, they will pass over North Point soon. So get in the air at once!"

"YES SIR!" Bob screamed as he saluted the commander. He ran to the Falken and opened the hatch. The base went on alert and all hands quickly went to their stations. Ian and his "crew" prepared the planes for take-off and William ran to his post at the control tower. Isis got out of her chair and ran to her plane. Before the hatches closed, the two of them looked at each other.

"Good luck!" They said in unison. The hatches closed and Ian have the thumbs up. The two majestic birds rolled out of the hanger, their engines howling louder and louder as the spun up. The rain was still coming down hard and a thick fog had rolled in, setting the stage for a "demonic" flight as William put it.

"This is Mobius 1-1 and 1-2 at runway 12 requesting take-off."

"This is the tower, roger, good luck out there Mobius."

"Thank you tower, taking off!" Bob concluded. Fire spit out of the two planes as they hit the afterburners. The two planes quickly lifted off the ground and disappeared into the fog. It was time to begin their mission. Not too long after they had taken off, they had already been alerted of the enemy location by a radar station at the edge of North Point. The two pilots switched over to their supercruise setting, which allowed for mach 2 flight without afterburner, and traveled to the edge of their "back yard". The sun had came out soon after they arrived at their operation area. Bob received a mysterious message over the comms.

"Attention pilots of the 118th squadron, this is UPEO Airborne Warning And Control Systems (AWACS) callsign Nova. I will be assisting you on your missions from now on." Came the unexpected, yet rather friendly, voice. But there was something in that voice that made the two pilots fell at home. Isis had the answer.

"Hey, Francis! Is that you? How are you doing?!" she asked enthusiastically.

"Hehehe, found out that easy!" It was true. Francis McKinley, their old instructor, was now their overseer. "Anyway, back to seriousness. Mobius, what is your status."

"We are at the IP (initial point) and are starting Patrol." Bob replied.

"Affirmative. Picking up radar contact 100 nautical miles to the north. Move to intercept."

"Roger." The two planes changed course and moved to engage. They were now in full afterburner, their engines spitting out fuel and screaming for air. They were slightly higher than their targets, which was standard procedure for interception. The two craft entered visual range not long after making contact. It was a huge formation. There were over twenty R-501 Rhincodon heavy transports. They were being escorted by R-101 and R-201s. Isis looked over at Bob's plane. In less than two seconds, the nose opened up. With the reticle clear, the laser fired. Its bright, red, beam glistened in the sunlight. Bob yawed the plane violently, moving the beam from left to right. In a few seconds, most of the R-501s were on their way to the ground. The enemy formation had taken notice after that. The escorts came running after the two fighters.

"I'll handle these guys Bob, take care of the rest of those transports." Isis said.

"Alright, good luck!" With that Isis broke off to draw the attention of the fighters. Bob reallocated himself and fired again. More transports fell; and not too soon after the engagement had begun did it end. Meanwhile, Isis, who was more than a match for the planes she faced, put her new plane to work. No matter what the NEU tried to do, the Berkut would outturn them. It was a very one-sided fight. One by one the Neucom fighters fell out of the skies. Isis was almost unstoppable, at least in her mind. In no time flat, both Bob and Isis had finished their fight and the operation was over. The two pilots formed up, victorious and excited to go home.

"Hold on. There is something going on with those transport planes!" said Francis.

"What do you mean, Nova?" Bob asked. However, before Francis could explain himself, four of the falling R-501s regained control. Their tails blew off and out came four R-103 Delphinus IIIs. These were the pinnacle of fighter design and the best fighters Neucom had to offer. They were more than a match for the SU-43, and an age old fighter like the ADF-01 would have to work hard to keep up.

"That flying style! Captain, I think these are those ghosts you were talking about. They don't look like you have described though." Came a strange voice over the radio.

"That's because they changed planes. No matter what they fly, they will always be the Aquila. Time to take them down!" responded the "captain". The planes from Neucom aggressively charged the allied formation, who were low on fuel and ammunition; Isis especially, who had fired all but some of her cannon's ammo at the escort fighters. Again, the odds were against them, but the squadron from North Point still had some tricks up their sleeves. The battle began when the two squadrons raced past each other. The R-103 was a hell of a lot faster than any other fighter at that time, the only exception being the Falken when using the SCRAMJET. However, in a dogfight, SCRAMJET was very unpredictable and unstable so Bob didn't use it. Besides that, the attacking power of the 103 Rivaled some small bases. Featuring a large array of missiles and a pulse laser cannon, these planes were dangerous. The 103's used their impressive speed and attack power to split the two pilots up. Although faster, the Delphinus IIIs were less maneuverable and armored than the two forward-swept wing fighters of UPEO. Isis used this to her advantage, turning sharp and oblique whenever a 103 pulled up on her, causing him to overshoot. But, because they were double teaming her, this strategy did not work for long. Meanwhile, Bob also being hounded on by the 103s. He was trying to get an edge on them so he can fire his TLS as he was not packing missiles for the flight to save on weight, seeing as the plane already weighed 36 tons to begin with. Time and time again, he tried to get behind one, only to have the other fall onto his tail. He made one little mistake in a turn and now both 103s were on his tail. Bob opened his eyes to see his cockpit. He looked over to the "maneuver panel" on his left. He touched the button labeled _HERBST_ and the plane began to turn. The Falken's nose pulled up and began to stall, then rolled over a bit and was facing the other direction. The two 103s overshot in amazement at the perfect maneuver. Bob then reconnected to the COFFIN and pulled an Immelman turn, getting the shot he wanted. He opened the Falken's nose and fired the TLS. The dazed Delphinus pilots were unable to avoid the deadly ray of light, and were disintegrated.But, Isis still needed help. Bob turned towards her location and sped to her aid. He arrived in the nick of time, flashing his laser in front of a missile intended for the tailpipe of Isis' Berkut. The once one-sided dogfight had now turned into two one-on-one battles. But the last two were good. The "captain" was on Isis' tail and Bob went up against the adjutant. Over and over, the hunter and hunted traded places. But the NEU were gaining the advantage.

"Bob! Isis! Watch out, they're going to cross over!" Came Francis' voice. Bob understood the order and maneuvered to interrupt the maneuver. The maneuver itself was simply a thatch-weave maneuver intended for two opposing aircraft, causing the attacking planes to switch targets and be directly behind of the new defender, making for an easy missile kill.. His plan worked and the lead fighter flew past his nose. Bob turned hard and fired his TLS, instantly obliterating the target. The last plane pulled a cobra and Bob pulled too far away to be effective. Isis pulled onto him. The two were in a turn fight heading straight for the ground. Isis used her superior turn time to get a quick opening and fired. What remained of her cannon's ammo was dumped into the last Delphinus, which caught fire and burned to the ground. Finally, after a lengthy dogfight with four aces of the NEU, the two aces of North Point formed up and turned for home.

"Thanks, Francis. Couldn't have done it without ya!" Isis exclaimed happily.

"Hey, it's my job...nuggets!" Francis responded "...or should I say '_aces_'"

"That fits a whole lot more!" Bob laughed. The comms felt quiet for a moment, and the conversation ended with Francis.

"Hey, Bob. Can I...uhh...nevermind." Isis asked awkwardly.

"Uhh, what?" Bob responded.

"I will tell you when we get back."

"Okay, then." Bob concluded. The two planes returned to the base and landed. They taxied over to their hangar and shut down the engines. Bob and Isis dismounted their craft, letting Ian's crew get to work on repairing the battle-worn planes. They walked out of the hangar and started back towards their barrack.

"So, Isis. What was that you were going to tell me earlier?" Bob asked.

"Oh, yeah. So, I had this idea that-huh?-" Isis looked to the sky. What she saw was an E-767 on final approach. What it was doing at North Point, neither of them had a clue. The giant aircraft touched down and came to a stop. The 767 taxied near the hangar area, and the two pilots ran over to investigate. They returned to their hangar where William and Ian seemed to be arguing over something. The two of them walked over and tried to eavesdrop and interrupt the argument.

"All I am trying to say is that I don't think that we have enough manpower to maintain a 767."

"I would disagree. Besides, 767s don't need all that much attention. Once a month, if I am correct, would you need a total checkup anyway."

"Fine. But I still would like more help anyway, those two 'aces' just love to get shot up a lot."

"We like to get WHAT, Ian?" Bob jokingly asked.

"Oh, nothing. Anyway, I think your friend is about to join us." The four looked over to the 767. Walking towards them was Francis McKinley, an old friend to both of North Points aces.

"Ahh, you must be Francis McKinley. Pleasure to have you here at our base. I hear you had a tough time getting here, courtesy of Neucom." William greeted the smiling ex-instructor.

"Ahh, that little road block? Nah, your fighters took care of them no problem. Of course it was I who trained them. So give all that credit to me! HAHAHAHA!" Francis uttered a hardy laugh. That familiar and welcomed sarcasm made the two pilots feel rather nostalgic.

"By the way, Francis. What are you doing in that giant plane? I thought you were a fighter pilot." Bob asked.

"Was at one point, but I have gotten a bit old for that job. SARF felt that the old concept of an AWACS should be contemplated on. Me and the crew inside are the trial to that. I like it though. It is one of those planes you just fall in love with, besides the fact that the COFFIN is not installed in this plane. Yeah it is THAT old!"

"And that makes my job even more difficult." Inserted Ian, while his crew were scampering around trying to learn everything they could about the "new" plane. Some were fascinated at the intricacies of the cockpit panels. Others questioned its efficiency. All around there was plenty of amazement.

"Well, anyway, I need to get back to my crew. See ya tomorrow!" With that, Francis returned to his plane.

"See ya!" Isis screamed, overcome with joy to see her old instructor again. William returned to his post and Ian started lording over his crew again. Bob and Isis relaxed and walked back to their barrack for the evening. Not long after they entered, Bob jumped in the shower. Meanwhile, Isis put her plan into action. While showering, Bob heard a loud screeching. He ignored it as it sounded innocent to him. He changed into his clean Personal Training (PT) gear that he used as sleepwear. As soon as Bob walked back into the main room, he stopped dead in his tracks staring at the "idea" Isis had.

"Uhh, Isis...what is this?"

"What do you mean?" Isis responded as if oblivious to her own work. She had pushed the two beds together, and situated them near the back window instead of being on the sides of the barrack in the center of the wall.

"You tell me…"

"What. You always said you wanted a larger bed."

"I meant that for ONE person, this changes nothing!"

"So you don't want to sleep closer to me?"

"...Fine you win, keep them the way they are. By the way, what was your motive?"

"Well, we both love each other. Can't we sleep together?"

"Makes sense. Anyway, take a shower. I am gonna go to bed, or just watch TV for a while."

"Okay!" Isis skipped her way into the bathroom. Meanwhile, Bob turned on the TV and fell into the now almost queen-size bed. On the news was a story talking about the _brave UPEO aces who have defended Usea time and time again. _The story was about Rena Hirose and her squadron. Bob was happy to see that they were doing well. Near the end of the documentary, the newscaster stepped up and explained about _the young stars from North Point who have been flooding the media for months. "They have been defending peace like the squadron we have talked about before, but their actions have gone unsung for most of their time in active service."_ A smile grew on Bob's face. He didn't know why, but he was rather happy that Isis and he were mentioned in the news.

Isis had concluded her shower and came back out of the bathroom. She too dressed in PT gear, as most of the time pilots needed to be ready at a moments notice. To them, it was better to be in the wrong outfit than flying naked. Isis jumped into bed, just barely missing Bob. She moved her way next to Bob, who in turn Wrapped his arm around her. Recently, they have been getting closer and closer together. Their happiness was spreading as well, as it seemed like most of the base seemed happier and brighter. They relaxed and watched TV, resting after their long day in the air. There was plenty of propaganda on, so the two lovers sat there laughing at all of the exaggerations. Come midnight, they were sound asleep, Isis resting in Bob's arms. They both hoped that it could last forever. But they never forgot about the war. They would do everything in their power to stop it and be able to stay together.

**Well, was it good? I hope so. I hope that I can get chapter 9 out faster, but school was definitely not letting me get this one out easy! Was it good? Bad? Needs work? Remember, I don't care what language you speak you are all free to criticize me to your hearts desire. Anyway, again, hope you enjoyed. See you next time!**


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